Behind The Lines
by NotGuyFieri
Summary: His life was perfect. His life was what Jaime always wanted. His life was everything Jaime didn't have. And god damn, did he hate that Bart Allen because of it.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: So I'm kind of nervous about this one, because the first chapter is kind of "strange", I suppose. However, I've been writing this thing since last year, so I might as well release it already.**

 **This story follows Young Justice's timeline and takes place in the fall of 2017. Bart's a freshman in high school (and so is Jaime's sister, Milagro) Jaime's a senior, Cassie and Tim are juniors, and Dick's college-aged (but not actually in college).**

 **(PLEASE READ THIS): I want people to enjoy this story. There are some stuff mentioned in it that could trigger and/or offend people. Now, I don't usually do this, but I'm going to put warnings for each chapter in a note in the beginning. You can choose whether or not you want to read them, but beware, the chapter warnings may contain spolier-ish stuff. **

**WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER:**

 **-heavily used profanity**

 **-marijuana usage**

 **-slight violence**

 **-death threats**

* * *

 **FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 8TH**

Perhaps it was the loss of his father at a young age, or the alcoholic mother. Maybe a mix of both. Jaime just didn't know. Whatever happened, happened. Whatever happened fucked up his life.

At school, his dark hoodies would allow him to blend into the hallways, so that he could just move on and get to class, to not receive any attention or high-fives in the middle of the hallway from extreme extroverts, or be expected to partake in some sort of excited sports game chant that was going on.

Ah, he hated those kind of people. They were his absolute polar opposites. They would be the summer and the sunshine, meanwhile, Jaime would be the wintertime and the darkness.

Luckily for him, it was his last year of putting up with this shit. In the spring, he'd be graduated and moving on in life.

He just didn't know if he'd be moving onto better things.

Lazily slinging his textbooks at his side, he watched silently as he saw a group of people- of course, cheering and chanting about something. The person in the center of the attention was some skinny white dude with reddish-brown hair. He was the most summertime-sun out of the entire group of summertime-suns.

Oh, Jaime knew him. Not personally, but the kid always made himself well known. And holy fuck, was he annoying. Jaime knew of him _before_ the stupid shit called high school happened. He knew of his existence before his life came tumbling down, way back when he was an innocent child not selling drugs on the street, back when his sister wasn't a full-on whore bringing home a different guys to fuck every weekend. He knew of him back when the most alcohol his mother consumed was a sip of champagne, back when his father wasn't lying down half-dead in a hospital bed on life support, not knowing which breath would be his last.

 _He knew of him._

The kid's name was Bart Allen, a goody-two shoes. A kid with a nearly perfect GPA, the good-looking track and cross-country star, the class clown, a guy who always had girls following and admiring him wherever he went, and not to mention his family had been apart of the town's police force for generations upon generations. The kid's grandfather was county chief, and his dad was county sheriff, too!

His life was perfect. His life was what Jaime always wanted. His life was everything Jaime didn't have.

And god damn, did he hate that Bart Allen because of it.

Once he arrived in class, he sat in the back- as usual, though not the complete back. One of his only two friends sat behind him. His name was Tim. Jaime met Tim in sixth grade, while Tim was in fifth grade. Tim had just moved in across the street, and being only about a year and a half apart in age, they got to know each other and clicked immediately. Tim's situation was similar to Jaime's- except Tim's mother died (from a car accident, not cancer, like Jaime's father) and his dad had a gambling problem, which eventually landed him in a foster home. Later in life, Tim and Jaime began to do things together that were not as innocent as playing ghost in the graveyard. No, they began to sell drugs. Few times have they got in trouble, but it was never so severe to the point that they were expelled or anything. Just a few legal fines here and there, plus a couple nights in jail- which was not crazy, according to the two of them.

"Hey." Tim greeted blandly, "I've got some news for you."

"What is it?" Jaime turned around.

"You know that Bart Allen kid?"

"Yeah. Just saw him in the hallway." Jaime informed.

"He came up to me this morning. He wants to buy some grass. He's offering thirty bucks a gram." Tim chuckled in amusement, _"Thirty bucks a gram."_

"You're kidding, right?" Jaime asked in disbelief.

"Yeah, I know, it's hard to believe. And I can't tell whether or not it's because he's a stupid freshman or he's trying to catch us. I mean, his dad's a cop." Tim pointed out.

"That's possible." Jaime acknowledged.

"The thing is though, I don't wanna bypass that opportunity of making a bunch of money. So I told him to meet me behind the old doctor's office where only eighty-year-olds go for heart medicine and shit. I'll be there with Cass. You should come, too. And bring your gun in case he tries anything funny." Tim suggested.

"You want me to shoot that kid? His entire fucking family is in the police force." Jaime pointed out.

"If you _have_ to shoot him, yeah." Tim said.

Jaime sighed, "I don't have a good feeling about this."

"It'll be fine." Tim insisted.

Jaime didn't have a chance to respond, however, because class had already begun.

x

This would be Bart's first _real_ party. So of course, he had to make the best of it. His friend Garfield had told him about Jaime, Tim, and Cassie, and their drug-selling partnership. Bart had heard a few words of them here and there, mostly tales and stories his dad Don would come home from work saying stuff about "the Drake and Reyes boys", how they were bad kids, and would warn Bart to stay far away from people like that. Bart had seen Jaime and his friends in the hallways a couple of times, and they always seemed so depressed. Sad. Dark. Something along the lines. Especially Jaime. Bart was pretty certain that Tim and Cassie were a couple; they had each other. And Jaime? Well, he had nobody. Bart knew better than to try and feel sympathy for people who chose to ruin their lives by running a pretty-much-mobile trap house, but he couldn't help it.

Their group sold anything ranging from weed to heroin. Though, Bart wasn't crazy like that. He was just going to buy a few grams of weed and leave. Garfield had just handed him a bit over a hundred bucks to buy some for the party he was throwing while his adult-sister Megan was away for the weekend. Garfield was too scared to go buy it off of them himself, and even when Bart offered to go with him, he declined. The rest of his friends didn't want to go with him either. With this, it just left Bart and the money given by Garfield.

"So do you have a plan to meet up with them?" Garfield asked as Bart packed up his things to go home that Friday afternoon, a group of curious friends standing behind him.

"Yeah. We're gonna behind by Old Oak Clinic at around five." Bart explained, "Got the money?"

Garfield nodded, handing his friend the cash. Bart slipped it into his pocket and got his backpack all the way on his back.

A couple of hours passed, though he didn't go home during those hours. He mostly spent the time wandering around the park near his house, or watching a family of ducks swim in the pond. When the time, came though, he walked nervously towards behind the building Tim told him to go to. He wasn't exactly scared of the drug dealers that he was about to face, rather than what would happen if his dad found out what he was doing. All of those warnings from his dad to stay away from these kind of people- these particular people, he knew that if he got caught, he'd get in very large trouble. He knew what he was doing was wrong and dangerous. But Bart lived by a _"Try anything once."_ motto, and buying drugs were no exception to it.

His palms sweat, and he slid the bills between his fingers in hope to calm himself down. He saw Tim's dark figure first, standing along with Jaime's and Cassie's. He approached the group, and began to nervously stutter.

"S-so, I have the money, do you have the-" he began, but he was interrupted by Jaime.

"Lift up your shirt." he demanded.

 _"Wha-what?"_ Bart asked in surprise and confusion, and he flushed, "Why?"

"We need to make sure you don't have a wire on you. Now _lift up your shirt."_ Jaime commanded in a more intense tone.

Bart did, to prove to the three that he was not an undercover cop.

Feeling satisfied, the Hispanic teen seemed to relax. Bart began to hand Tim the money, when a police car suddenly began to pull up and it's siren went off.

 _"Are you fucking serious?!"_ Jaime screeched, pulling out his gun and pointing it at Bart, whose face went pale and he dropped the money in surprise.

"I swear to god, I'm not with them! Please, _believe me!"_ Bart begged.

Jaime grumbled, but Cassie and Tim began to book, to which, he followed. Bart knew he had to make a decision here and then. Should he run with them, or just turn himself in?

Ultimately, he decided to run. Being a track star, he quickly caught up with the group. They didn't have time nor enough cares in the world to try and stop him. Jaime turned around and fired bullets at the cop car. There was no fucking way he was going back to jail, or possibly prison this time around. Tim lead them into the woods, knowing his way around well. The heavy gasps of air, cracking of twigs, shouts of police officers, and crunching of leaves were the only noises made. Once they were out, Tim lead them into a shady-looking house in the poorer part of town. He locked the door behind him, and the three dealers began to work on closing the curtains. Once they were done, they allowed themselves to catch their breaths.

A man, presumably in his early twenties, sat on the couch, giggling, obviously very high.

"What'ja do this time, Timmy?" he asked.

"Who's that?" Bart asked, obviously crept out.

"My old foster brother, Dick. Ignore him, he's always high." Tim informed, then turned back to Bart, _"Wait._ Why the _fuck_ are you here?"

"I swear to god, I have no idea what happened. My friend wanted me to buy weed for a party and I was the only one brave enough to go. I got scared and I guess it was just the adrenaline rush and-" suddenly, a buzz went off in Bart's pocket. Without asking, Cassie took his phone, reading the messages that appeared on the lock screen.

"They're from his dad." she explained, and began to read them, "'One of your friends told me what you were doing. You are in super huge trouble.', 'Bart, I cannot believe you would stoop to this level.', 'You are going to face some serious consequences.'"

"Oh god..." Bart mumbled, "Dead. I'm totally dead."

"Sure as fuck you are, ese." Jaime mumbled, pointing his gun at Bart once again, "One way or another."

"Woah, Jaime, chill." Dick called from his recliner and chuckled, "Killing doesn't help anybody."

Jaime sighed, putting his gun away, but he still complained, "This fucking bastard is going to get all of us in huge trouble!"

"Sorry." Bart mumbled quietly.

"You better be fucking sorry! You were too fucking dumb to even notice your dad following you!" Jaime snapped. Bart flinched.

"So what are we going to do with him?" Cassie asked.

Tim shrugged at his girlfriend and Jaime glared at Bart. Bart flinched once again before glaring back. Suddenly, feelings of regret filled him, and he ran for the door and began to unlock it. Cassie reacted in time and grabbed him, her muscular body allowing her to lift up Bart and pull him back. Bart screamed and tried to fight, but all he did was flail.  
 _  
"Shut the fuck up!"_ Tim commanded, grabbing the gun from Jaime and pointing it at Bart's face. Bart suddenly came quiet but still let out small gasps. _"You were dumb enough to follow us back, now we're all caught in this shit together! There's no way you're leaving now!"_ Tim handed the gun back to Jaime, and said, "I'll go get some rope or something, so he doesn't try to run anymore."

Cassie pinned Bart to the floor, and Jaime smiled, carelessly tossing the gun around as if it were a toy.

"Make one fucking noise and I'll kill you." he said in a casual manner.

 _"Bu-but why? Why are you like this?"_ Bart cried, and Jaime didn't know why he found himself taken aback.

He froze for a second before responding, "In this life, you have to be."

Tim returned with a bunch of kids' jump ropes that he had found in the garage. The group forced Bart onto an old chair, and Dick watched, chuckling with amusement in the background. They tied his legs to the chair legs and his arms behind the chair. Tears brimmed in his eyes by now.

"Please, just let me go. I'll never tell on you guys, _I swear_." he promised.

Tim narrowed his eyes, "You followed us back to our safe haven. You could just run away and reveal to your little daddy where we are. Why would we let you go?" he then whispered something to Cassie, and the two left into the kitchen. Bart stared at Jaime, eyes full of fear and sadness... and sympathy?

"What put you here?" he asked.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Jaime hissed, and for the third time, Bart flinched.

"You weren't always like this. I can tell. You used to be happy. You used to not sell drugs, and, y'know, not kidnap people on the side." Bart tried to joke.

"You don't know shit about me." Jaime spat.

"You were abused as a kid, weren't you? Parent was a drunk or a drug abuser?" Bart asked.

 _"Shut your fucking trap!"_ Jaime commanded, and pointed the gun underneath Bart's chin, pushing his head back, and Bart breathed heavily. After about thirty seconds, he let go. Bart didn't dare to speak. Tim and Cassie returned, quiet, with food in their arms.

Jaime grunted, then walked away to sit in the family room. He knew what Bart was doing- he was trying to manipulate him. Bart was trying to get friendly with Jaime so he could be let go.

Dick spun his recliner to face Jaime, "That motherfucker can read you like a book." he chuckled.

"Dick, I'm not in the mood for this." Jaime mumbled.

"Doesn't make it any less true." Dick insisted.

Jaime sighed.

"Want a joint?" Dick offered. Jaime nodded. Dick lit him one, and Jaime was relieved to finally be able to relax.

But only for so long.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: New chapters should be released every Friday. They'll be longer, I promise.**

 **WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER:**

 **-heavily used profanity**

 **-marijuana usage**

* * *

 **SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 9TH**

Bart awoke in the morning, muscles stiff. He tried to move, then realized he couldn't. He began to remember what had happened the previous night.

"It's about time he woke up." Cassie grumbled from the back, and the muscular girl approached him. She pulled out a knife, and Bart screamed.

"Shut up, you idiot. I'm gonna cut you out. We have this all situated." she reassured him, and he relaxed somewhat once he felt the ropes fall off his body. Both his wrists and ankles had red stripes on them from the ropes holding him down into the chair. He got up and stretched immediately. Cassie handed him his phone.

"Your dad isn't happy."

Bart's face went pale as he began to check the messages.

 **Is this about what happened yesterday morning?  
That's it. You're off the cross country team and the track team. The school district found out so you're suspended too!  
You ruined our name. Now everyone in the entire town is questioning the capability of our family.  
You'll be spending three nights in jail to learn your lesson.**

"Uh..." he said awkwardly, "Well, I'm fucked." he suddenly stepped aside as Jaime walked past him with a full backpack, "Whoa, where are you going?"

"We're getting the hell out of town, that's what. We're gonna live somewhere else. Now get out." Jaime said in a hostile tone.

Bart uneasily shifted, then looked at his phone again. There were more messages, from more people, friends, relatives, all saying how disappointed they were in him, among other things.

"Take me with you."

"Wait, what, ese?" Jaime hissed.

"Take me with you guys. To the place." Bart repeated.

"It's a farm. And are you fucking crazy? You have your entire life ahead of you!" Jaime lectured, almost as if he were a friend.

"Not here. Not anymore. Look." Bart handed him the phone, "My life here is gone. My family has always had a big name... and I messed up, badly."

"Name one good reason as to why we should bring you with." Tim commanded from the back.

"Well... I can run pretty fast. Y'know, herd up the cows and goats." Bart tried to say enthusiastically.

"You're not going to complain?" Tim asked.

"Nope."

"You're not gonna bitch and moan about how hard your life is?" Cassie asked, folding her arms.

"Nada."

"Just take the motherfucker with!" Dick yelled from the background, lazily slinging a backpack over his shoulder.

"Well, if that's the case," Jaime said, too exhausted from the recent events to try and debate with Bart anymore, and he gestured to his phone, "leave that thing behind. If we give them enough time, they could potentially track it and find you."

Bart didn't hesitate. He took the expensive phone and slammed it into the ground, then violently stomped on it.

"That's the spirit!" Dick cheered and came forward, slapping Bart playfully on the back. A car was heard pulling up, and Tim peeked out the blinds.

"Roy's here. Let's go."

The group of five quickly made their way out front, piling themselves into Roy's car, pulling the doors shut before any of them could blink.

"Who's he?" Roy asked, and Bart found himself looking face-to-face at a guy with practically orange hair and bright blue eyes.

"His name's Bart. He's... got himself caught within our shit." Jaime explained briefly. Roy took this as a good enough explanation. He began to drive into the street, and out of town. After about ten minutes of driving, Jaime turned to Bart.

"You better not regret this, ese." he muttered.

"Oh no, I won't!" Bart replied with enthusiasm. Jaime didn't respond.

Soon enough, the houses became less and less, and the trees became more and more. The sun was at its highest, its rays shining into the car, causing Roy to put on sunglasses (to which, Bart must admit, made him look pretty bad ass). Dick fell asleep and was snoring the world away, and Tim and Cassie fell asleep on one another. Jaime stared blankly out of his window, hood up, a sad-looking face making a soft reflection in it. Bart watched with interest, though neither made a comment.

Eventually, Roy pulled onto a nearly-invisible country road, with so many trees surrounding it that the bright sunlight was barely able to filter its way through. After lots and lots of more twists and turns, he made it into a large field, with barely any trees in it. There were trees in front of it, behind it, and on the sides, but only the occasional tree here and there when it came to the actual field. The field itself was full of healthy dark green grass, slightly overgrown, with some wild rabbits grazing upon it. In the middle of the field was a huge old house, and a couple-hundred feet away, a barn, in which its red paint began to peel off. Bart looked out in awe. The land was absolutely beautiful. Roy pulled up to the house and stopped the car, informing the sleeping passengers that they had arrived. Bart jumped out of the car and stretched, taking in the surroundings. An elderly couple, along with a teenage boy came out of the front door greeted them.

"Hey, Roy. So this is your group you got here?" the woman asked. Roy nodded, hugging his elderly friends and the teenage boy, cheerfully saying hello.

Roy began to introduce the group, "This is Dick. Over here is Cassie. Next to her is her boyfriend, Tim, who is also Dick's brother. Then that's Jaime, and the new kid, Bart. Guys, these are the Kents. Mrs. Kent, Mr. Kent, and Conner Kent."

The group began to shake hands and greeted each other. The Kents lead them inside, giving the group a tour of the house, and what room they'd be staying in.

"Oh, and Cassie, honey, you'll be sharing a room with a young woman named Jade. She'll be arriving in a few days. She comes here every fall to help harvest." Mrs. Kent explained. Cassie nodded.

"We'll be downstairs making lunch. You guys make yourselves feel at home." Mr. Kent said before leaving with Conner and Mrs. Kent.

Bart flopped onto his bed and let out a sigh of exhaustion. Jaime didn't make a noise as he began to unpack his things to get himself situated.

"You look mad." Bart commented as he sat up on his bed.

"Kinda." Jaime admitted.

"Why?" Bart asked.

"I was hoping to be roommates with Tim, not some goofball like you."

"Hey, watcha got against goofballs?" Bart commanded in a joking tone.

"Look," Jaime said, turning around quickly to face Bart, "Just... don't bother me, okay?"

"Oh, don't worry, dude. I think we'll become friends." Bart predicted, and ran up to him, placing a hand on Jaime's shoulder and he whispered in his ear, "Maybe even best friends."

"Get off of me!" Jaime barked, shoving the other teen off. Bart fell onto the floor, and he looked back up with wide surprised eyes.

"Sorry." he mumbled, "I won't bother you."

Jaime mumbled something back, though Bart didn't catch onto what he was saying.

x

"The food is great, Mr. and Mrs. Kent." Dick complimented, practically inhaling it all.

"We appreciate the compliment, Dick." Mr. Kent responded, and he chuckled.

"So how do you guys get electricity and plumbing so far out in the country? Sounds like it'd be hella expensive." Dick commented.

"Everything here is solar, wind, and hydro-electric powered." Mrs. Kent replied, "Pretty efficient. Costs almost nothing, too."

"Sounds pretty dope." Dick acknowledged, "Livin' large."

Jaime finished his food quickly along with Tim. The two got up to put their bowls in the sink, asking which side to put it in before leaving and going outside, looking into the sunset. They decided to go for a walk together, and began to make conversation.

"So this is our life now." Tim said blandly.

"Yeah." Jaime agreed, then immediately changed the subject, "Dammit... why'd we have to take that kid with? He's gonna be a burden."

"Well, Dick likes him." Tim pointed out, "And when somebody has Dick's seal of approval, well, that mean's something."

Jaime chuckled, "I guess. Maybe he'll become less annoying with time. I'm just paranoid he'll become homesick and want to leave, and ruin everything for everyone."

"We'll make him stay, either way. No backing down now." Tim said, and Jaime nodded in agreement.

"So that Conner kid seems pretty cool." Tim said.

"Yeah. He's kinda quiet though." Jaime commented.

"He's as quiet as Bart is as loud." Tim joked.

"Yeah, no kidding. He talks enough for all of us."

x

 _"Jaime? Are you still awake?"_

 _"What the fuck do you want?"_

 _"Just wondering!"_

 _"Go the hell to sleep!"_

 _"Okay! Good night then, I guess!"_

 _"...good night."_

 **SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 10TH**

The bright morning sun provided enough light for the teens to see into the barn as Mr. Kent taught them how to properly milk a cow.

"That's so weird." Bart commented to Jaime. Jaime just nodded, trying to focus. Bart said some other things, though Jaime was slowly beginning to learn how to ignore him. Mr. Kent lead them to the horses. There were six of them in total, and he introduced each horse to the group.

The first one was white with a light blonde mane, and his name was Prince. The next one was the opposite- pitch black. Her name was Luna. The third one was brown with a white stripe going down his muzzle, and he was called Samuel. The next horse was nearly as pitch black as Luna, though he had white spots here and there. His name was Dot. The fifth horse was smaller than the rest, a mare with tan fur and a light blonde mane named Ginger. The last horse was another mare, who was grey and named Misty.

"You'll get to know these guys. You'll treat 'em like they're your own kids!" Mr. Kent said with amusement. The group chuckled in nervousness and slight confusion. Mr. Kent then proceeded to teach them how to properly handle pigs, how to efficiently get apples off of apple trees, how to work the ride-on lawn mowers, and some other things before he finally allowed them to go back for the house to eat. Conner and Mrs. Kent had made lunch, which was a humongous chicken salad. After the meal, they went back outside, looking for something to do.

"Hey, Conner- that's your name, right?" Dick asked, and the black-haired boy turned to Dick, "Wanna get high?"

Conner shook his head. Dick frowned before smiling again, slinging an arm around Conner, "Cm'on, big guy! It'll be fun!"

"Fine." Conner agreed, obviously not in the mood to put up with Dick's shit.

"And he talks!" Dick said with enthusiasm, and the group made their way into the distance, sitting around one of the few trees that didn't lead out into the woods, and Dick pulled a small bong out of his pocket, along with some weed, then a lighter, and he took the first hit before passing it around. Once it got to Bart, he let out an extreme coughing fit as he inhaled it. Dick laughed, "Amateur." as Bart tried to catch his breath. Bart handed it to Conner, who had some coughing, but not nearly as much as Bart did.

"You do realize that since you live here now, you won't be able to get anymore weed, right?" Tim asked.

Dick laughed, "Nah. I have my ways, lil' bro."

The sun was halfway set, and the stars began to come out.

"Maaaan, it is so fucking pretty out here." Roy told Conner, "You must have a blast living here."

"Not really." Conner admitted, "It gets boring after a while."

"Well, you have us to keep you company now." Cassie pointed out.

"I guess." Conner shrugged.

The group talked about other things for hours upon end, until the stars made themselves clear in the sky.

"I've never seen so many stars in my life." Bart said with awe.

"Me too." Jaime agreed, "Don't think I've seen any stars in a while actually... light pollution and all..."

There was silence. The rest of the group continued talking, not paying attention to the other two.

"You have a question to ask me. I know it." Bart insisted.

"I was wondering if you were... regretting coming here." Jaime admitted.

"Dude, are you kidding me? This place is so great. I mean, I may have had a cool life at home but... this place is... real, y'know?" Bart asked.

"I guess I can see what you're trying to say." Jaime said.

"So Jaime, am I really that bad? Like, so bad that I'm an annoying goofball motherfucker?" Bart asked with a mix of enthusiasm and curiosity.

"I think you'll get better with time." Jaime told him, and he chuckled somewhat. Bart couldn't tell whether or not it was because he found Bart funny or it was because of his high- if Bart had learned anything so far, it was that Jaime Reyes didn't laugh.

But when he did, _god_ _damn_ was it adorable.

"Or maybe you will." Bart suggested after a couple of moments.

Jaime frowned, but quickly sat up, not saying anything. Any evidence of him being amused or happy a minute ago was gone. He began to engage with the group's conversation about how broccoli looked like little trees and how the Green Giant was really tripping balls. He tried to ignore Bart's annoyed glare. Dick wasn't wrong when he said Bart could read him like a book. Jaime knew he had a soft side- he just didn't want to admit it. And he was not going to let some random fourteen-year-old-who-he-just-talked-to-for-the-first-time-two-days-ago break his shell.

No, that was definitely not going to happen.

Not until pigs fly.


	3. Chapter 3

**WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER:**

 **-heavily used profanity**

 **-marijuana usage**

* * *

 **MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 11TH**

Right now, miles and miles away, Jaime would have been in school with Tim, Bart, and Cassie if his life hadn't taken such a sharp turn on Friday. He wasn't too busy focusing on school, however. He and Tim had been partnered up to buck haystacks into a wagon. And god damn, they were a lot heavier than Jaime initially had thought. Even with the combined strength of he and Tim, they still struggled to lift them up.

"How the hell does he do that?" asked Tim as he tried to catch his breath, looking over to Conner, who was lifting up haystacks by himself into the cart.

"No idea." Jaime said, though he admired Conner's strength. He wondered how many years Conner had to have been living here to perform the task with such ease.

A sudden noise was heard behind them, and Tim and Jaime turned around to see Dick pulling a small cart full of corn.

"Yo guys... look at how much fucking corn I have!" Dick said, gesturing to the corn in the wagon, "Cassie's not too far behind me. And her wagon is even bigger! This is like, Cornland, or something crazy like that."

"That's great, Dick." Tim complimented before changing the subject, "I still don't understand as to why the Kents don't have any trucks to do the heavy-lifting, though. Having horses pull wagons seems pretty old-fashioned."

"Who cares? I have the honor of pulling corn in a cart. This is my dream come true." Dick said enthusiastically, and Cassie pulled up next to him. Dick looked at her cart, as if he hadn't seen how huge it was before. "I hereby announce Cassie Sandsmark as the empress of corn. She's a lot better at this than I will ever be."

Tim turned away from his brother. "Jaime, we only have two haystacks left. Let's keep moving." he encouraged. They quickly finished their task, and looked in the distance for Conner, but he was already gone. They got on top of the cart, and Tim took the reigns of Misty, and they said their short goodbyes to Dick and Cassie before going back to the barn.

Upon returning, the loud whinny of a horse was heard, obviously very upset. Confused, Jaime told Tim to stay with Misty while he checked out what was going on. He jumped off the cart, and creaked open the barn doors.

 _"Hello?"_ a small, desperate-sounding voice said from the distance.

Jaime narrowed his eyes, and he walked in, looking for the voice's owner. He came to a sudden halt, not sure how to react.

"Oh... hey." Bart said, letting out a nervous smile.

"What the actual hell? How'd this happen?" Jaime asked, mostly annoyed, yet slightly amused, and genuinely concerned.

"Well... Mrs. Kent wanted me to bring Luna out into the field for her. I guess the horse was feeling kinda grumpy because when I tried to pull her out of the stable, she resisted and I got my arm tangled in the reigns... now it's _really_ stuck. And I need you to help me out."

Jaime sighed and laughed somewhat to himself, "Here, hold still. I'll let you out." he pulled a switchblade out of his pocket.

"Whoa! Dude, _what the fuck?!_ That thing is _huge!"_ Bart began to freak out, "Why do you even have a knife _on you?"_

"Carrying a knife on me is something I always do." Jaime explained, "It's a habit now."

Bart winced, but sighed with relief as he felt the reigns slip off of his skin and fall onto the ground. Jaime began to take the bridle off of Luna.

"Do you have a thing for getting yourself into situations where you end up being tied up?" he asked.

"A little bit. How'd you know?" Bart chuckled nervously, and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Well, look at this mess." Jaime pointed to the ruined bridle and reigns on the floor, ignoring Bart's question, "We'll go tell Mrs. Kent what happened."

"Wait, _what? No!_ Just hide it or something!" Bart said.

"What, are you afraid of old-lady punishment?" Jaime teased, _"Oh no, not dusting knick-knacks! Never! You can't make me!"_

"Hey man, don't underestimate those old ladies." Bart warned.

"Am I interrupting something?"

The two teens turned their heads to see a young woman in her early to mid-twenties, with olive skin, grey eyes, and long black hair standing in the entrance of the barn next to Tim.

"She's the girl who Mrs. Kent said would be coming a few days ago. Jade." Tim quickly explained.

Jade walked into the barn, making her way into Luna's stall, stroking the mare's head as the horse whinnied happily, "She was always my favorite." she commented.

Bart laughed and began to walk out of the stall, "Oh, so this girl can handle her. Great. I'm just gonna get go-"

"No. You're gonna tell Mrs. Kent what you did." Jaime said as he caught Bart by the shoulder.

"But _why?"_ Bart whined like he was a young child.

Jaime glared at him.

"Fine." Bart gave in, "I'll go tell her."

x

"Woo! Looking sexy with that duster, motherfucker!" Dick teased as he walked past Bart dusting Mrs. Kent's knick knacks- just like Jaime had predicted.

"Hey dude, shut up. Real men dust knick knacks." Bart insisted. Dick continued to snicker before leaving to the kitchen. After a few minutes, Bart narrowed his eyes and felt the heat in his cheeks begin to rise.

"I know you're internally laughing at me." he said without even turning around.

"Yeah. That pretty much sums it up." Jaime replied, "But _holy shit_. I can't believe it. I _was right_. And I wasn't even serious."

"Yeah yeah, keep laughing." Bart grumbled.

The front door opened, and Jade entered the room, ignoring Bart and Jaime, she made her way into the kitchen. She pulled off her sunglasses that she was wearing at the time, and set them on top of the table. She grabbed a water out of the fridge before sitting down.

"Hello, Roy. Long time, no see." she greeted.

"Hey." Roy grinned.

She looked over to the black-haired man to his left, "And who are you?"

"I'm Dick. You?" Dick replied.

"Jade." she responded.

Jade held out her hand to shake Dick's. They and Roy began to make small-talk, and Bart finished up his dusting, making his way in the kitchen to join. Jaime took opposite direction, seeking out Tim, who was out on the front porch, cuddling with Cassie on the bench.

"Hey lovebirds. What are you guys up to?" he asked.

"Not much." Tim admitted.

"Cassie, you look annoyed." Jaime commented.

"No, I'm fine." Cassie reassured.

"What? Did Mrs. Kent enforce a strict no-sex policy upon you two? _'There ain't gonna be any sex in this house while I'm still living in it!'_ " he butchered a southern accent, teasing the couple.

"Oh, shut the fuck up, dude." Tim said, playfully hitting his friend.

"Ay, I'm sure she had a talk with Dick about weed as well." Jaime guessed.

"I bet Dick is sexually attracted to weed." Cassie joked.

"I wouldn't be surprised." Jaime shrugged, "I'm still wondering how he'll manage to get pot while he lives here. He said he had his ways."

Tim laughed, "When Dick says he has his ways, he isn't lying."

The door quickly opened, and speak of the devil, Dick arrived.

"Yo guys... I just found out motherfucker's birthday is tomorrow! We've gotta celebrate." he insisted.

"Motherfucker's birthday?" Cassie raised an eyebrow.

"I think he's referring to Bart." Jaime commented.

"What would we even do to celebrate? It's not like we have any gifts to give him. He's loud and annoying." Tim admitted.

"Get him a ball-gag, then. I don't fucking know." Dick shrugged.

A series of snorts were heard from the other teens.

Dick chuckled, "We'll figure something out."

 **TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 12TH**

"Woah!" Bart exclaimed as a large breakfast was set out on the kitchen table the next day, "Thanks guys, I appreciate it. I really do."

"It's our pleasure, son. How old are you turning today?" Mr. Kent asked.

"Fifteen." Bart informed.

"Fifteen's a good age. Come on, eat up now, before your food gets cold. And Bart, if I knew it was your upcoming birthday yesterday, I wouldn't have made you dust my knick knacks!" Mrs. Kent laughed. Dick chuckled along with her. They sat down at the now very full table, eating their food, Bart especially enjoying his birthday breakfast. "You know what, since I made you dust yesterday, I'll give you the day off today." she offered.

"Sounds great, Mrs. Kent." Bart smiled.

Like usual, Jaime and Tim were the first to finish and put their dishes in the sink simultaneously. They began to make their way out of the door, when Mr. Kent stopped them.

"Not so fast, boys. I have work for you two. I'd surely appreciate it if you could clean out the stables and give the horses some fresh food and water."

"Yes, sir." Tim said blandly.

"Jade. Join 'em, won't you?" Mr. Kent requested. Jade nodded, quickly finishing her breakfast and joining the teens.

Mr. Kent scanned Bart for a minute before asking, "Don't you have any change of clothes, son?"

"No. I've been wearing the same clothes since Friday." Bart admitted.

"Well, you know what? I'll go into town today and buy some clothes for you. I'd bring you with to help me pick some out, but, you know. You might get spotted. Hopefully you'll have faith in me to pick out all the hip clothes kids wear these days." Mr. Kent teased. Bart nodded in understanding.

"Welp, I wanna get back before sundown, so I best get going now." Mr. Kent got up from his chair and put his dishes in the sink. The old gentleman made his way out of the door and towards the back of the house, where his car garage stood. In the garage were three old vintage cars, in mint condition. Rarely did Mr. Kent go into town, maybe a couple of times a year, and it showed in his cars' pristine shape. A few minutes of pulling off a tarp and finding the key to his '67 Camaro (which was especially hidden) occurred. Starting it up, he opened the garage and pulled out. After a good thirty-five minutes of driving down plenty of roads, he eventually pulled into Keystone, the town where Roy's friends were from. The one they escaped from. Mr. Kent wasn't here to shop- Keystone wasn't big enough for that. All he needed was some gas and coffee, then he'd take the main road from Keystone into Central City. He began to fill his old car, looking at his watch as he did. Once he was done filling up the car, he walked inside of the gas station. He froze suddenly.

 _Oh, lord. It was Don. And Don was a police officer._

 _"Mr. Kent?"_ Don asked cheerfully.

"Don! Is that _you?_ All grown up, I see." Mr. Kent commented.

"Yep! I can't believe it's you. I haven't seen you in _years!_ I remember back when I was a kid, Dad would take us to your farm sometimes in the summer. Such a shame I never got to give Bart the same experience. But hey, life got busy." Don laughed.  
 _  
"Bart?"_ Mr. Kent asked.

"Oh yeah, I never got the chance to tell you about my son, Bart. He's in high school now. In fact, today's his fifteenth birthday." Don informed, "Actually, I need to ask you something about him." and he looked down. Mr. Kent knew what was coming.

"What is it?" Mr. Kent acted oblivious.

Don handed Mr. Kent some flyers, and pointed to a picture, "This here is Bart. He went missing on Friday. He ran off with these kids." he pointed at Tim, Jaime, and Cassie, "Hell, that's the reason I'm here in the first place, to put up these goddamn flyers." he paused, "Sorry for my bad language. It's just been tough."

"No, I understand." Mr. Kent nodded.

If you see him around, can you give the station a call?" Don requested.

"Yeah. That's terrible, Don. I'm sorry to hear that. And I sure will." Mr. Kent reassured.

"It's alright. I'm stressed out, but I'm sure we'll find him. You know, one day, I should go visit you and your family at the farm. Just like old times, eh?" Don asked.

"Well, we're starting to get kind of old for people to visit us. We can't keep up." Mr. Kent nervously chuckled.

"Oh? Well, if you ever need any help, feel free to stop by the police station any time. Just request me and say you're Jonathan Kent, they'll most likely bring me to you." Don offered to him.

"Surely." Mr. Kent responded simply.

Don nodded, saying a quick goodbye, and he left the gas station.

Mr. Kent let out a sigh of relief. God damn, Bart was Don's _son?_

Man, he just wanted some coffee more than anything else right now.

x

"Hey, motherfucker." Dick smiled as he greeted Bart. The now fifteen-year old was relaxing inside the barn laying on top of a bunch of haystacks, "I got you a present."

"What is it?" Bart asked, not bothering to sit up to talk to Dick.

"For your birthday, I'm gonna let you smoke all of this weed. In this bong. My gift to you." Dick offered, pulling out his bong, weed, and lighter, and presenting it to Bart. Bart sat up to take a look.

"Holy shit. That's a lot." Bart said in surprise as Dick placed the weed on the bong.

 _"I know right?!"_ Dick laughed.

"Too much for me. We can share." Bart suggested. Dick seemed to like this idea.

"You guys better not be stinking up the place." Jaime said from the distance as he put fresh water into Dot's stall.

"And who's to say Jade here won't tattle on you guys?" Tim added.

"Oh, I won't. I'm not _that_ kind of person." Jade reassured, "Though, I would be rather annoyed if you two amplified the smell of horse shit."

"Dick smells like horse shit twenty-four seven." Tim grumbled.

"You talk horse shit!" Dick shouted from the haystacks, "Come on, Bart. Let's get high and ignore these other motherfuckers."

After a few minutes, the smell had filled the whole barn.

"I'm out. That smells fucking terrible." Jaime said, exiting the barn. Jade and Tim agreed, and they left, only leaving Dick and Bart.

"You know Jaime, he always tries to act like a hard ass." Dick said before taking another hit, "But he's not one. He's a big teddy bear."

"Really? It sure doesn't seem like it." Bart countered.

"No, it doesn't." Dick agreed, "But I knew him before he became all... this. When Tim and I were still foster brothers, sometimes Jaime would come over, and he'd play with our little kitten that we had back then. And he'd fuss over this little kitten, that he eventually came up with the name for. Phoenix. Cat was bright orange."

"Daww." Bart chuckled.

"When Tim's biological mother died, he bought him a purple teddy bear, because he knew purple was his mom's favorite color. And he hugged Tim and said everything would be alright." Dick went on.

"He sounded like a good friend." Bart commented.

"Back then, he was." Dick said, "Nowadays, he isn't so affectionate. At least not in front of people. I don't think he's hugged Tim since he was thirteen. Maybe he has since, I don't know. He usually likes to keep Tim to himself, though I'm sure he allows Cassie to have some of him."

"What happened back then to make him change?" Bart asked, curious.

"Well, I'm not a hundred-percent sure, but I think it was the beginning of eighth grade for him. He had just started the school year and his dad died from cancer. The dude had been battling it for a long time, too. Jaime just spun down a shit hole at that point. His entire family did." Dick explained, "He's been through a lot."

"Wow." Bart said, "Didn't know he's been through some shit. I kind of thought he was just an asshole for some time."

"Oh, he's an asshole. Just an asshole with a reason for being an asshole. But he shouldn't be an asshole." Dick commented.

"What?"

"Never mind." Dick shook his head, then continued to speak, "I've been trying to get him back to normal. Nothing's ever worked. I just want him to chill again. You know, sit back and just smoke some weed, not be firing guns and shit."

"I get you." Bart replied, "I totally get you."

x

The night was dark and cloudy, with no moon or stars to be seen. Jaime turned off the night-light, engulfing him and Bart in complete blackness.

"So, purple teddy bear, huh?" Bart asked from his bed.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Jaime demanded.

"Purple teddy bear. The one you got Tim after his mom died." Bart brought up.

"Dick told you that story, didn't he?" Jaime asked.

"Yeah."

"Well don't listen to that bastard. He's stoned all of the time. He doesn't know half of what he's saying." Jaime growled.

"I think that's a really nice thing you did for Tim. And I think Phoenix is a cool name. I heard you liked kittens." Bart went on.

"I don't like kittens. I have no idea where you even _heard_ that from." Jaime hissed.

"Dick." Bart said as if it were obvious.

"Look, ese. You're bothering me and I just want to sleep. I'm not a kitten-kisser and getting Tim that teddy bear was appropriate in that situation. Besides, I was like, twelve. Probably younger." Jaime defended himself.

"Why are you so embarrassed to be nice?" Bart challenged.

 _"I'm not!"_

 _"Sure..."_

"I swear to god, I'm leaving if you keep this up." Jaime threatened, "Or better yet, I'll pick you up out of that bed of your's and throw you in the hallway."

"Fine. I'll just go to sleep now."

"Wise choice, ese."

 _"But seriously-"_

"Bart, be _quiet!"_

"Sorry."


	4. Chapter 4

**WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER: none**

* * *

 **WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 13TH**

All too quickly, Bart finished up his morning task; milking Daisy the cow. Of course, Mr. Kent had supervised him during the process. After the work was done, the elderly man had playfully slapped him on the back and laughed. "Good thing you're getting practice now! You might have to do this to a _lady_ someday!"  
 _  
Right. Ha ha._

Afterwards, Bart was alone in the barn, with not much to do. He talked to the horses and pretended like they actually understood what he was saying. Ginger seemed to be very impatient, stomping at her stable floor.

"Do you want out?" he asked her. The horse just whinnied. Bart shrugged. What the hell? He opened her stall, guiding the mare out. She seemed happy, and affectionately licked his face.

"Heh. You're funny. A lot nicer than Luna over there." Bart mumbled, then thought for a second. Moving quickly, he hopped onto Ginger's back, not knowing how she'd react. She didn't flinch. That was a good sign.

"YOLO, right?" Bart asked Ginger. She didn't respond. Of course she didn't respond- she was a horse. "Ah, I'm _totally_ going to die a virgin at this rate. Whatever." he grabbed her mane and tried to get her to start trotting. He screamed as the mare began to go into a full gallop out of the barn. Bart continued to scream, digging his heels into the mare's side to try and get some sort of grip.

 _"Slow down! Neigh neigh! Slow down! Neigh!"_ Bart yelled, attempting to get into whatever contact he could with the horse. Ginger kept running though, and soon, they faced a fence.

 _"Don't jump! Don't jump!"_ he begged. And of course, she did. Bart lost his grip on her and went flying. He tried to land on his feet, though he landed at a more awkward angle, before falling onto the grass. He was silent for a moment before his brain registered the pain, and he screamed and swore, holding his knees to his stomach. Ginger sniffed him curiously.

After about fifteen seconds, he could hear the rumble of a machine, then footsteps approaching him.

"Mr. Kent?" he asked in hope and grunted in pain, _"I think I broke my legs."_

"No. Not Mr. Kent."

Bart turned his head to the voice, _"Fuck!_ It's you."

Jaime rolled his eyes, " _Whatever._ What happened?"

"Just bring me back to the house. I _seriously_ fucked up my legs." Bart responded. Jaime opened the gate of the fence and walked in, picking Bart up, loading him back into the ride-on lawn mower he was using. He began to drive, trying to ignore Bart's cries of pain.

"Fuck. This thing goes like, four miles an hour." Jaime grumbled, then turned around to face Bart, "I'll need to carry you back, okay?"

Bart nodded and winced at the pain. Jaime walked over to him, picking him once again, and sprinted towards the house. He continued to try and ignore Bart's cries, but he couldn't, and tried not to wince like Bart did every time he heard one. He finally arrived, and luckily for him, Mrs. Kent was knitting on the front porch.

"Mrs. Kent!" he called, "Bart is seriously hurt."

The old woman looked up, immediately rushing towards them, then guiding them into the house, to set Bart down on the couch.

"I'll get Jade. She's studying to be a doctor." Mrs. Kent explained, and Jaime nodded. Mrs. Kent went to search for her, leaving only the sound of Bart crying in pain again.

"What did you _do?"_ Jaime demanded.

"I-" Bart winced, "I thought it would be-" he winced again, "-f-fun to ride Ginger bareback."

"You _dumb ass_!" Jaime hissed.

 _"I know it was stupid!"_ Bart exclaimed.

Jade soon entered, inspecting Bart. He let out yells of pain as she grabbed his foot, though she did it as gently as possible, it still hurt him.

"I'd need an x-ray to determine whether or not I'm right," Jade finally said, and by now, pretty much everyone was crowded in the living room, "but it looks like he twisted both of his ankles at most. I don't think anything's broken."

"What the hell was he doing to twist _both_ ankles?" Roy asked.

"He told me he was riding Ginger bareback and fell off." Jaime explained.

"Hey," Dick smiled, "It's best he learns now before he decides to ride anything else bareback."

Cassie was the first to catch the joke, and she burst into a fit of laughter. Soon, the others followed.

"- _ey man_ that's not fucking funny." Bart groaned from the couch.

"We need to give him some space." Jade said, returning to the serious atmosphere, "He needs plenty of bed-rest in order to heal properly."

"Conner, can you go fetch Ginger for me?" Mr. Kent requested. Conner nodded silently before leaving.

x

"Thanks for carrying me back to the house today." Bart said in the dead of night.

"You're welcome." Jaime replied blandly.

"You were crazy, man. You were like, that blond guy from Frozen when he was carrying Anna back to the castle." Bart attempted to make an analogy.

"You mean Kristoff?" Jaime asked.

"Somebody knows their Disney." Bart teased.

"Oh, shut up. You can't blame me. Mi primos used to watch it at every family event. I might as well have memorized every line in the movie by now." Jaime grumbled.

"Your primos?" Bart asked, confused.

"Cousins. My cousins." Jaime explained.

"I'm guessing _español_ is your first language?" Bart suggested.

"Sí, pendejo."

"Hombre, eres tan amable."

"What the _hell?"_ Jaime asked, sitting up in his bed, _"How did you-"_

"Never underestimate the freshmen." Bart chuckled.

Jaime rolled his eyes and flopped back down on his bed, "'Night. I'm done with you."

"'Night."

 **THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 14TH**

Bart woke up the next day to Mrs. Kent delivering him breakfast. The thing Bart noticed before her was how badly he had to pee.

"Mrs. Kent. I have to pee. How do I get up?" he asked, almost panicking.

"Well, there's this bucket." Mrs. Kent gestured to the bucket by the end of Bart's bed.

"Are you serious? I have to piss in a _bucket?_ I mean, no disrespect, ma'am, but-"

"You really think _I'm_ the one who put it there?" Mrs. Kent laughed, "It's either the bucket, or you'll have to ask one of your boyfriends to help you in the bathroom."

Bart felt the heat hit his cheeks and he bit his lip, "I guess it's the bucket, then."

"Eat your breakfast before it gets cold." Mrs. Kent reminded, gesturing to the tray she had brought him. Bart nodded, and she left the room to give him privacy.

Bart finished his breakfast quickly, and was soon bored. He looked around for something to do. His eyes ended up landing upon the backpack that was by Jaime's bed. He knew he shouldn't be snooping through his stuff, but his boredom was eating away at him quickly, and his options were limited. He pushed his body towards the backpack, making sure to have his feet remain on the mattress. Carefully, he extended his arm and reached for the bag, trying not to dump over his piss-bucket. Once he got a hold of it, he pulled himself back to his own bed, and started going through the bag.

The first thing he noticed that was in there was a sketchbook. Curiously, he started to go through the pages. On the very first page was something he couldn't quite put his finger on what it was. It looked like some sort of alien-human-thing. It was a good drawing, no doubt about that. Bart would have never guessed Jaime was the artist type. The drawing was detailed, too, with professional markers used on it. He continued to go through the pages, and he began to see drawings of superheroes that everybody knew of, like Captain America, the Hulk, Thor, and a few Deadpool drawings here and there. But _god damn_ Jaime was talented. He saw a couple more drawings of the alien-human-thing, figuring by now it must have been another hero. Bart was quite the superhero geek himself, yet he had never seen this one. Was it a new one Marvel had just come out with? Or a really, really, unknown one?

He was about to close the sketchbook when he saw a paper slip out. Curiously, he flipped it over to look at it. It was the human-alien thing, though this drawing wasn't as nearly as good as the other ones. It looked like something a child had created. "Un héroe nuevo. ¡Escarabajo Azul!" was written in crayon.

"Blue Beetle, huh?" Bart asked curiously, translating the Spanish to himself. The door to the bedroom swung open. Quickly, Bart tried to stuff the sketchbook back into the bag, but Jaime had already caught him in the act.

"What the fuck are you _doing?_ Are you going through _my shit?"_ Jaime commanded.

"I was bored, okay? It's not like I can go anywhere!" Bart defended himself. Jaime grumbled, grabbing his backpack.

"Don't ever touch my stuff again." he warned, then looked down, "Is that a bucket full of piss?"

"Er... yes. But who is Blue Beetle?" Bart asked.

"It's just a stupid drawing I made when I was ten." Jaime grumbled, "It's nothing."

"But I saw cooler drawings of him. Like, recent ones." Bart said.

"It's just a dumb thing, okay?" Jaime grumbled again.

"I never knew you were so good at drawing." Bart commented.

"...thanks." Jaime mumbled.

"But seriously. Who's Blue Beetle? Is he... or she, a new Marvel character?" Bart asked.

"No, I made him up." Jaime explained, "It's... a _long_ story."

"Well, it's not like I have anything to do. I'm all ears." Bart promised.

Jaime pulled out the old picture he had in his backpack. It was the very first time he ever drew Blue Beetle.

* * *

 **AUGUST 2010**

 _"Jaime."_ Mr. Reyes smiled, grabbing his son's hand, "I'm going to need you to be strong for your sister and your mother."

"But papá!" Jaime cried, "I _need_ you. You need to come home. _Please."_

"I'm sorry, it just doesn't work like that." his father apologized, letting go of his son, resting his arm back on the hospital bed, "I need you to be a hero for me, too."

"I _can't_ be a hero. _How_ do I be a hero?" Jaime asked.

"Make a hero. Draw me a hero. So whenever I look at them, I can think if you." his father suggested.

"Okay." Jaime promised, "I will."

x

"Dad. I have the hero." Jaime said as he visited his dad the next week, pulling out the drawing to give to his father, "I call him Blue Beetle. He's a human, so he technically doesn't have powers. But he has armor that can go over his body and give him special weapons. He can also fly."

Mr. Reyes smiled, "Oh, my. Creative, Jaime. I'll give you that."

Jaime smiled back, "I can draw more for you."

"That'd be great. Can you tape this one to the wall?" Mr. Reyes requested. Jaime nodded, and he took the drawing, looking for any kind of tape around the hospital room. Once he found some, he attached it to the wall, right where his father could see it.

 **SEPTEMBER 2013**

It would be only a month until Jaime's fourteenth birthday, but he wasn't sure if he would receive anything fancy this year. His family was becoming increasingly more and more poor trying to keep his dad alive. Bored, he turned off his computer and looked out his window. The lights of Tim's large foster home across the street were bright, and he wondered if he should go over and ask him to hang out.

Suddenly, he heard a loud wail down the stairs. Concerned, he went towards the source of the noise. His mother was on the phone, on her knees, crying into the hand that wasn't holding the phone. Milagro was trying her best to comfort her sobbing mother, but failing.

"Mamá, what happened?" Jaime asked. Bianca looked at her son for a few seconds before continuing to cry. She finally hung up before dropping her phone.

 _"Y-your father's dead."_ she cried, _"He unexpectedly died ten minutes ago."_

Jaime stood wide-eyed while Milagro's eyes filled with tears. She began to cry along with her mother, and they hugged each other. Jaime began to cry as well, and he quickly wiped away his tears before running back up the stairs and jumping onto his bed, bawling into his pillow. He didn't know how long he did, though when he finished, he looked out the window and the lights to the foster home were no longer on.

x

The empty hospital room didn't feel right.

 _Why did he have to go so soon?!_ Jaime screamed internally. In anger, he ripped all of his Blue Beetle drawings off of the wall. Over the course of three years that he had drawn them, he had got increasingly better, and ended up drawing about forty. But he didn't want to see any of them anymore. He grabbed them, and stomped out of the room. When he had gotten home that night, he went to his back porch, and began a fire in the fire-pit. He threw the drawings in the fire, though one was caught in a wind-gust, and flew away. He chased after it, and after a couple of seconds, caught it. He looked at it.

He realized it was the first drawing he made for his dad. It was so crappy and poorly drawn, he cringed at it.

But...

he _couldn't do it_. He couldn't burn this one.

Grumbling, he folded up the paper and placed it in his hoodie's pocket.

 _This one would have to stay._

* * *

Bart shifted uncomfortably as he saw tears begin to roll down Jaime's cheeks. He had been sitting there in silence for almost two minutes, mumbling incoherent Spanish, the only thing he caught onto was "papá". He was obviously thinking deeply about something, Bart figured.

"Uh, Jaime?" Bart asked.

Jaime was snapped out of whatever trance he was in, and he wiped away his tears.

"Are you okay?"

Jaime's head turned towards Bart.

"I'm fine. Forget this ever happened." Jaime insisted. He stuffed the drawing back in his backpack, zipping it up before throwing it in the closet. He began to walk out of the door.

"Jaime! Wait!" Bart cried, but Jaime was already gone.

"Great." he mumbled to himself, "I probably reminded him of a traumatizing childhood memory or something."

 **FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 15TH**

Bart woke up pretty late the next day, according to the wall clock, five p.m. He was quite surprised to see Jaime sitting on his bed, propped up against the wall, staring into seemingly nothing.

"You okay there, buddy?" Bart asked as he began to sit up.

"Oh. You're awake. _Great."_ Jaime mumbled, "And don't call me that."

"What's wrong? Is it from yesterday?" Bart asked curiously.

"No. Tim and I just got into a huge fight, and I need some time to think it through." Jaime answered.

"Oh? Over what?" Bart asked, then caught himself, "If you don't want to talk about it, that's okay, too."

"No, it's fine. Roy went into town with Mr. Kent this morning to sell some of their crops and buy stuff like soap, toothpaste, shampoo, you know. Stuff like that. Roy bought some beer as well. He wanted to share it. All of us minus Mr. and Mrs. Kent went to the barn and drank some. Cassie drank too many too quickly. I guess she got kinda horny or something, because she started rubbing up on me and kissing me."

"Oh." Bart replied, honestly trying not to laugh, "Did you kiss back or something?"

"No. I didn't try to push her away, either. I was kind of just frozen there. Wasn't sure what to do. Tim saw and he got mad. Note that he's drunk, too. He called us both whores and sluts and stuff along the lines before attacking me. We got into a fight. Dick and Roy had to pull us apart." Jaime explained.

"Sorry that happened to you." Bart shrugged, "You know... about those drawings-"

 _"Drop it,_ Bart." Jaime commanded.

"I'm not gonna ask you about Blue Beetle anymore. I was gonna ask you if you could draw me as a superhero." Bart informed.

"Oh?" Jaime asked.

"Yeah." Bart responded.

"Well, what would be in it for me?" Jaime questioned.

"Let me see." Bart replied, bending over his bed so he could see underneath it, "Ah. There she is." he said with enthusiasm. He pulled out a jar full of weed and showed it to Jaime, "If you draw me a hero, I'll give you all this."

"Where the hell did you _get_ that from?" Jaime asked, surprised Bart had that underneath his bed.

"Dick. Left over stuff from my birthday." Bart responded simply.

"Ah... of course." Jaime rolled his eyes, "Deal. We'll shake on it." Jaime insisted, holding out his hand. Bart took his free hand and shook it.

 _Did I just make a drug deal?_ Bart thought, _Eh, whatever. Who cares?_

 **SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 16TH**

It had been exactly one week since they arrived to the Kent farm, Jaime had noticed. He finished up his drawing of Bart as a superhero. He ripped the pages off of his sketchbook, and woke up Bart, who was taking a late-evening nap.

"Hey, ese. I finished your drawing." Jaime informed, and Bart stirred from his sleep.

"Whoa... cool." Bart admired, "What's his name?"

"I call him Impulse. Because he acts before he thinks. Super-speed is his superpower. If running fast enough, he can run through walls, and break the light barrier." Jaime explained.

"Loving the name, hermano. Also, super-speed? Cool. Kinda like Quicksilver?" Bart asked.

"Except a lot faster." Jaime grinned.

"I like your style." Bart grinned back.

The door to the bedroom opened, and Conner blandly said, "Dinner's ready." Jaime nodded, leaving the room. Bart sighed, knowing he couldn't get up to go with him. He knew Mrs. Kent would be coming upstairs within a few minutes to bring him a plate, but honestly? Eating alone sucked.

Only a minute passed after Jaime returned, and he gave Bart his plate.

"Whoa. Aren't you supposed to be eating down there?" Bart asked.

"Yeah. I said I wanted to come back up here to keep you company. But in reality, I'm just trying to avoid Tim."

"Gee, thanks for making me feel special." Bart rolled his eyes.

"You are special. If you hadn't twisted your ankles I wouldn't have an excuse to avoid him." Jaime countered.

"Mhm. Sure." Bart replied in a sarcastic tone.

The rest of the time was silent. Bart finished first and put his plate on his nightstand. When Jaime finished his, he took Bart's plate as well before heading downstairs.

Bart himself fell right back asleep.

 **SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 17TH**

"Holy cow. I'm doing it! I'm doing it! I'm walking!" Bart said as he stood up.

 _"Kind of."_ Jaime responded, "Technically, me and Conner are taking all of your weight."

"Let me have this moment." Bart grumbled. They reached the bathroom, and let Bart go in on his own. They waited a few minutes for him to come out, and strange noises were heard inside. Some screams, yelps, and _"What the hell?"s_.

"Are you okay in there?" Conner asked.

"Sorry!" Bart apologized from the inside.

"What'd you do?" Conner responded.

 _"I think I flooded your bathroom."_

Conner let out a large sigh, "Is it okay if we come in?"

"Yeah."

Conner turned the knob, and let out a grumble. Bart let out a nervous chuckle. Toilet water was filling the floor, and wet Bart's toes. "I'll clean it up." he muttered, "Jaime, help him back."

Jaime nodded, and Bart used Jaime as support for his weight as they began to walk back to his room.

"What the hell were you doing to even flood the bathroom?" he asked.

Bart bit his lip, "I... I don't know, honestly. Impulse was busy attacking the Toilet Monster."

"Ha. Okay." Jaime said, and Bart reached his bed and Bart sat down, letting himself relax.

"So how has avoiding Tim been?" Bart asked.

"Harder than I thought." Jaime admitted, "Things between me and Cassie are kind of weird, too."

"Do you like her?"

"No. I think she's attractive, no doubt. I just can't imagine being more than friends with her though. She's not my type." Jaime explained.

"Ah. You're not the romantic type?" Bart asked.

"No, not really. I try not to fall in love with people." Jaime admitted.

"That's pretty sad." Bart commented.

"True, though." Jaime admitted.

"Why's that?" Bart asked.

"Well... there was this person I met in eighth grade. It was right after my dad died so I was pretty emotional. They were always there for me, and we became great friends. I was always too scared to tell how I felt, though. At the end of ninth grade, they ended up moving. And I never got the chance." Jaime sighed, then narrowed his eyes, "I really shouldn't be telling you personal shit like this."

"No, it's okay." Bart reassured.

"So how do you do it?" Jaime asked, "How'd you leave the family you loved?"

"I... well, I just had to think of myself before them in that moment." Bart explained, and let out a small grin, "You didn't have any family at home?"

"I used to. I had a sister and a mom." Jaime began to explain, "Things weren't great."

Bart raised an eyebrow, "What do you mean?"

* * *

 **OCTOBER 2014**

"Mom?" Jaime asked, peeking into his mother's room. She was lying on her bed, taking a swig at her seventh can of beer.

"Jaime? Oh, hey. Go play with your Power Rangers or something. Mommy's busy." she slurred.

Jaime walked into the room, and actually got a good look at her. Her used-to-be beautiful, black, glossy hair was a dry tangled mess. Her makeup was smeared, and her clothes were torn.

"Mom, I'm nearly fifteen. I stopped playing with Power Rangers years ago." Jaime reminded, "This needs to stop, _now_."

"Oh... then go occupy Milagro with her Barbies or something." Bianca suggested, obviously trying harder to get Jaime out of the room now.

"She's _eleven_. She stopped playing with Barbies years ago, too." Jaime grumbled, "Come on, Mom. I'll help you clean this up."

"I'm _fine_ , hijo." Mrs. Reyes grumbled, wrapping herself in her bed sheets in an attempt to hide.

 _"Mom..."_ Jaime sighed, "Both Milagro and I need you to stop this. I know it's been a tough year for you without Dad. But we need you, as your kids."

"If you're almost fifteen, _then take care of yourself!"_ Bianca hissed, "You can go make the money around here. Go be the man of the house!"

Jaime stood frozen, wide-eyed. His mother would _never_ say something like that. He then narrowed them, "Fine. If that's what you want." and he walked out of the room.

x

"I need to find a way to make my family money." Jaime finally admitted as he was talking to his friend, Tim.

"You can't drive to work, though." Tim pointed out.

"I know. Well, not legally, at least. I won't be sixteen for another year, and frankly, I don't know if my family will be able to last one more." Jaime sighed.

"Well, there's two options I can think of." Tim informed.

"Oh? What are they?" Jaime asked curiously.

"Option one: become a male prostitute. Option two: sell things like weed, coke, meth. You know. That stuff." Tim suggested, "Or both at the same time."

"Isn't drug dealing what Dick does?" Jaime asked, ignoring the first suggestion.

"Yeah. I help him on the occasion. Maybe you can join in." Tim offered.

"If it makes my family money, then I'll do it." Jaime nodded.

"Great! Wanna shake on it?" Tim asked, holding out his hand.

Jaime took the offer and shook it.

 **SEPTEMBER 2016**

"What the fuck is _that?"_ Jaime demanded as he stopped his sister who was walking by the kitchen.

"What the hell are you talking about, hermano?" Milagro hissed right back. Jaime narrowed his eyes, grabbing his sister suddenly to get a better look at her neck. She tried to get away and yelled in protest.

 _"Dios mío,_ Milagro!" he scolded, "You have a hickey? You're _barely_ in the eighth grade!"

 _"I can do what I want!"_ Milagro argued, shoving Jaime off of her.

 _"Dad_ wouldn't approve of that." Jaime growled.

"Well _Dad_ has been dead for a _long_ time." Milagro grumbled.

"I better not see your boyfriend around here." Jaime warned.

"I'll bring him if I want!" Milagro continued to insist.

"I'll beat him up so badly he'll go off running." Jaime threatened.

Milagro scoffed, "Ha! Okay! Well, I'd love to see you try!"

* * *

"She did end up bringing her boyfriend home one day." Jaime explained, "And the whole thing didn't go so pretty."

"Oh?" Bart asked.

"Yeah..." Jaime admitted in embarrassment, and he could feel the heat hit his cheeks.

* * *

"Is this who I think it is?" Jaime asked, entering the family room, glaring at the boy who had his arms wrapped around his sister. He soon got a better look at the boy. _Holy shit._ He recognized him.

 _"Bret the Brick?"_ he asked in surprise and shock. Bret the Brick, otherwise known as Bret, was a literally _huge_ kid at his school, and not fat-wise. _Muscle_ -wise. He was on the football team and one of the toughest members, and strong as hell, and he was only a freshman. To make matters worse, he regularly bought from Jaime and his crew.

"Oh, hey Jaime." Bret replied causally, "Gotta say, that bubblegum you sold me the other week was pretty good."

"What the fuck are you doing with _my sister?!"_ Jaime demanded.

"Netflix and chillin' with her." Bret joked.

 _"Get out of my fucking house."_ Jaime grumbled.

"Why? What's your problem, man?" Bret asked.

"You're banging my fucking _sister!"_ Jaime screamed in anger.

"Whoa!" Bret said, putting his hands up in the air, "You need to tone it down some. What Milagro and I do isn't _your_ problem, buddy."

Jaime had already came at him though, and he punched Bret square across the jaw. Bret took only a few seconds to recover before punching Jaime so hard he saw stars, and Jaime fell to the floor, where Bret continuously punched him. Milagro started screaming at him, telling him to stop. Finally, at her request, he did. Jaime was barely able to sit up. He kept screaming profanities but they didn't come out as threatening as he intended them to be.

"Please, go home babe. I'll sort this out myself." Milagro promised.

"Ah, fine." Bret nodded, and kissed her quickly before leaving.

* * *

"After losing that fight with Bret, I felt humiliated." Jaime explained, "A little while later, Milagro and Bret broke up because of other things. Then she started to bring home guy, after guy, after guy, after guy... and I quit trying to protect her. I knew there was nothing I could do. I decided I needed to focus on keeping myself okay from then on."

"Wow..." Bart breathed, "Man... I'm sorry. Sucks that it happened to you."

"I know. But I'm in a better position now, I guess." Jaime shrugged, "Not in the best position, but yeah."

"Well, if you ever need to talk to me, I'm always here."

Jaime nodded, "I know."

The words caused Bart's face to light up somewhat, and a smile made its way onto it.

Perhaps things won't be too bad.


	5. Chapter 5

**WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER:**

 **-homophobia**

 **-profanity**

* * *

 **TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 19TH**

For the past few nights, Bart noticed, Jaime had been having night terrors. On Sunday, it was just some stirring. He noticed that Jaime would mumble "Papá..." and move around some. Monday night was worse. He had woken up gasping, calling for his dad once again. He fell asleep only a couple seconds after waking up, though. This night, however, Jaime was stirring a lot more than usual. He was crying in his sleep, mumbling Spanish that Bart couldn't pick up on. Bart nearly jumped out of his skin when Jaime suddenly sat up and screamed with tears rolling down his face.

 _"¡Papá!_ ¡No vayas! Por favor, _¡no vayas!"_

Bart just sat there, not moving. Jaime seemed to notice Bart after a couple of seconds, looking at him with his tear-covered eyes, his heavy breathing being the only noise that filled the room. Bart just blinked. After a few seconds, he spoke.

"Do you need to talk about it?"

"No." Jaime insisted, "It was just a nightmare."

"You've been having these nightmares for the past few days, hermano." Bart pointed out, "Something about your dad?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Jaime, come on." Bart responded, "Keeping it shut inside of you isn't going to help anybody."

Jaime sighed in defeat, "Let's go outside. I need fresh air. Can you walk now?"

Bart slowly nodded, and he grabbed his jacket and slipped on his shoes, following Jaime out of the house, trying their best not to awaken the residents. They slipped out the door as silently as possible and Jaime lead him to what Dick called "The Weed Tree", where he would smoke weed on a regular basis. Both curled themselves into a ball to keep warm, the wind of the mid-September air starting to show that fall was truly coming.

"So..." Bart said.

"Yeah." Jaime responded, "My story is kind of... sad."

"Oh?"

"When I was in the fifth grade, my father was diagnosed with stage two lung cancer. He wasn't a smoker... but he did work in places like factories, you know where, smoke and chemicals are... and genetics piled on top of that..." Jaime explained.

"Yeah." Bart acknowledged.

"Anyways, when he was first diagnosed, my family was very scared. He told me I had to be a hero for my mom and my sister. He then asked me to draw a hero." Jaime continued, "So I made Blue Beetle. Over the next three years I would tell stories about Blue Beetle to my dad to make him feel better. He was like a comic book hero. I even drew a few issues. That old drawing you saw was the first one I drew, way back in 2010. He died in 2013, right after I started the eighth grade."

Bart looked at Jaime, knowing that he was starting to get emotional.

"My life turned to shit after he died. You know how I described my sister and mom? Well, they were like that after he died. Not before he died." Jaime wiped a tear that rolled down his cheek, _"Fuck, I miss him._ I'd do _so much_ right now to be an innocent child again." he began to cry some more, "I'm a fucking _criminal_ now! Always running from the police! That's the whole reason why I'm _here!_ If my dad was alive... he'd hate me!"

Bart sat there awkwardly for a few minutes, letting Jaime cry until he was finally able to stabilize himself. Jaime had been quick to burst into tears, but Bart didn't blame him. It sounded like he was bottling up his feelings for several years.

"Why were you so afraid to tell me this?" Bart asked in a gentle tone, hoping to make him feel more secure.

"Because I don't want to seem weak in front of other people. I _hate_ it. I want to act like I can handle anything and everything that comes across my path." Jaime admitted.

"You're not alone on that one." Bart reassured, "Y'know, not wanting to seem weak in front of other people. That's why telling my friends and family I'm gay was so terrifying. The men in my family always had this masculine heterosexual bad-ass reputation as police, and... well... it was like I didn't live up to it."

Jaime quickly changed his expression from upset to confused, "Wait a second... you're _gay?"_

"What? Oh. Yeah. I am." Bart responded, not even realizing he had told Jaime. It felt like something Jaime should have already known, though he couldn't pin down why. Maybe the moment just brought it.

"B-but you don't _act_ gay." Jaime said in a tone of disbelief.

"Just because my voice doesn't sound like Alvin and The Chipmunks on crack and I don't shit out rainbows, it doesn't mean I'm not gay." Bart rolled his eyes.

Jaime chuckled, "Okay, ese. You got me. But didn't you have a girlfriend back home?"

"Oh, Bonnie? She was only my friend. I asked her to be my cover up so my friends at school would think I'm cool for having a girlfriend." Bart admitted, "Dumb, I know." he called himself out.

"So what made you so scared to tell your family?" Jaime raised an eyebrow, genuinely curious by now.

"They're... well. The stereotypical southern white family. Hammering bibles onto walls. Voting for Donald Trump actually believing he'll make America great again." Bart described.

"Oh god." Jaime muttered.

"Telling my mom was really hard." Bart began.

"How'd she react?"

"Well, I don't think she liked it, but tolerated it for the time being. The scary part is that she said I'd have to tell my dad the next morning. And he's, well..."

"Not that tolerant?" Jaime suggested.

"Yeah. That sums it up on a small level."

* * *

 **FRIDAY MORNING: SEPTEMBER 8TH, 2017**

"Mornin', son! Got any plans today?" Don asked as he looked up at Bart coming down the stairs with his mother at his tail.

"I think I'm gonna hang out with some friends later." Bart said, and he could feel his mother's stare on the back of his head.

"Cool. That means you're planning on _Netflix and chilling_ with some pretty senior girls?" Don teased.

"Er- um, no." Bart cringed, "Besides, dad. That was a thing like, two years ago."

Don rolled his eyes, "Speaking of girls, that girl who delivers the newspaper seems to be interested in you. She's pretty. Long blonde hair, blue eyes. Jennifer, I believe her name is? Why, I would have left Meloni for a lady like that if it weren't for her feisty personality." he chuckled before looking up at his son, "Maybe you should ask her to homecoming."

" _About_ girls, dad." Bart began, "I'm actually-"

"You got a lady friend already?" Don asked curiously.

Bart took a deep breath, feeling a cold sweat cover his body. He was trying not to burst into a panic. He could feel his heart thumping in his chest and his breaths were light, quick, and short. Parts of him were screaming at him to just do it already, others telling him to make up some sort excuse and get away from the situation as quickly as possible.  
 _  
"I-I'm-"_ he stuttered, then took another deep breath, _"I'm gay."_

At first, Mr. Allen made no expression. He was shocked, it was obvious, though it didn't look like it.

"Oh?" he asked. Bart nodded nervously. Don stood up, and every part of Bart was telling him to run and never look back. He sighed with relief when Don walked passed him, though he did whisper to Meloni, _"We need to talk."_

Mrs. Allen nodded, and they walked into their bedroom, and began to talk. Bart knew that his bus would be coming in a few minutes, so he took milk out of the fridge and cereal out of the cupboard, trying to ignore what just happened. He poured the cereal in a bowl before unscrewing the cap on the milk jug. He didn't even realize how much his hands were shaking. As steadily as possible, he began to pour the milk in the bowl.

"Are you _listening_ to me, Meloni? Did you even _hear_ what he said? _Our own fucking son_ likes dicks in his ass. He is a _fucking faggot!"_

Bart went pale and froze, dropping the entire gallon, and the milk jug exploded, its contents flying out into the air. It was loud, but not loud enough for people to hear it behind closed doors. Panicking, Bart got a bunch of paper towels and tried his best to soak up all of the milk.

"We can send him to therapy. To make him straight." he heard Meloni offer.

"I'm not spending _shit_ on therapists. I'll just beat the fag out of him once he gets home from school. He'll learn then."

Bart heard the rumbling of the bus outside. Quickly, he grabbed his backpack, running out of the door.

He wasn't sure if he should even come home that night.

* * *

"Wow." Jaime responded, blandly, "That's... bad."

"Jaime? If I'm gonna be real with you here..." Bart sighed, "honestly, that's the real- well, the main reason why I ran off with you guys. I was scared my dad would hurt me. Plus trying to buy weed on top of that... I'm like his living failure."

"Except you weren't a failure, ese." Jaime grumbled, "I was jealous of _you._ _You_ had good grades, _you_ got all of the girls' attention, _you_ were a star athlete, and you had lots of friends and a, well- for the _most part,_ functional family. I had none of that. And suddenly your dad thinks you're a failure because you're gay and want to smoke some weed? That doesn't make any sense."

"Oh." color hit Bart's cheeks, "I didn't know anybody would want my life so badly." he sighed, "Well, it didn't matter to my dad. I had one 'imperfection', and he wanted to punish me for it."

"I think you were smart not to go home." Jaime added, "If I were you, I'd much rather be living out here on a farm rather than be sent to a new therapist every other week."

Bart was silent for a few moments before saying, "Maybe we should go back inside."

"Yeah. That sounds great." Jaime agreed.

They stood up, their shoes crunching in the fallen leaves before opening the door and making their way inside, the howling wind from the outside now muffled.

 **WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 20TH**

"So," Jaime said as he was washing Prince with Conner, "Just wondering... where are your parents?"

"They died in a car accident when I was a few months old." Conner replied in his monotonous voice.

Jaime stood surprised, "Oh." he apologized, "Sorry."

"No. It's not a problem." Conner reassured, "I never got the chance to know them for real, anyways. My older brother Clark used to live here with me, too."

"What happened to him?" Jaime asked, hopeful that he wouldn't have to make Conner tell him one of his family members died again.

"He moved to Metropolis to become a reporter." Conner explained simply, "Outgrew the farm, I guess."

"Oh." Jaime acknowledged, beginning to brush the white horse's mane.

"So what do you plan on doing after you leave here?" Conner asked.

The question caught Jaime off-guard, "I- I don't know, actually." he knew he couldn't stay at the farm forever, but they'd only been here for around two weeks. "Maybe I'll go to Mexico."

"You'd have to sneak across the border. And learn Spanish." Conner pointed out.

"Spanish is my first language. And yeah. I know. But I'd figure out a way. I'd have a lesser chance of being caught in Mexico than I would in the United States. Or maybe I can move all the way across the country and get a fake I.D. They'd never know." Jaime figured.

Conner nodded in acknowledgement, turning his head to the opposite direction. Over there, Roy and Jade were washing Luna. A bit away from them, Dick and Tim were washing Dot. Cassie and Bart naturally paired together for Samuel, and the Kents were washing Misty. Ginger had already been washed the previous week, when Conner had found her standing in the pig pen after Mr. Kent asked him to fetch her.

Cassie and Bart were the first to finish, and they began to walk Samuel back to the stables. Jaime watched with interest. They seemed to get along pretty well. It almost reminded him of how he and Tim were back before their fight. Just two friends, hanging out, doing activities together.

"You there?" Conner asked. Jaime turned around.

"Yeah." he said, "Are we done?"

Conner nodded. Jaime nodded back. Together, they began to guide Prince back to the stables.

x

"Whoa! Calm down!" Bart said as Jaime suddenly grabbed his wrist.

"You're sitting next to me at dinner now. Cm'on." Jaime demanded.

"Ah- _okaythen."_ Bart agreed, not bothering to question him.

They sat down, and Mrs. Kent gave them their plates. Bart ate as quickly as he placed the food on his plate, and was the first to finish. He then put it in the sink and went to make his way upstairs. Jaime was the next, and just as he was going to place his plate in the sink, he bumped into Tim. The sixteen-year old growled at him before placing his in the sink and quickly walking away. Jaime glared at him. Tim glared back, but Jaime couldn't see it behind the sunglasses that hid his eyes.

"Jaime," he began, "Come outside to talk to me, _won't you?"_

"Sure." Jaime answered all-too-quickly.

Bart ran back down the stairs. "Wait." he said as he grabbed Jaime's shoulder. The touch surprised Jaime so much that he jumped somewhat. "Jaime, I don't think this is a good idea." he whispered. Jaime ignored him.

Tim laughed somewhat and began to make his way out of the door. Jaime quickly followed. Bart was right on his tail. They got outside, and Tim turned around.

"What, is this guy like your best friend now or something?"

"What do you want, Tim?" Jaime grumbled.

"I want you to apologize to me. Or have a rematch if you want." Tim grumbled right back.

"Apologize for _what?"_ Jaime hissed, his Mexican accent becoming clear in his sentence.

"For rubbing lips on _my girl!"_ Tim screamed.

 _"You want a rematch?"_ Jaime yelled.

"We _really_ should go back inside." Bart said urgently, trying to drag Jaime back.

"Keep your little boyfriend _out of this!"_ Tim snarled.

"You wanna fight?" Jaime repeated. He didn't wait for an answer. He charged at Tim, and shoved him to the floor, pinning him down. He tried to land a punch, but Tim caught it, and swung one of his own, hitting Jaime square in the eye. Roy and Dick came running out, separating the two, holding both of them back.

 _"Calm down!"_ Jaime heard Roy demand from behind him. Finally, after struggling to escape Roy's grasp for about a minute, he gave in.

"Oh, boy. That's a nasty mark he's got there on his eye." Jade said, inspecting Jaime's face. He didn't even attempt to resist against her touching him.

"I'll bring him in. We can get him an ice pack." Roy suggested. Jade nodded, and Roy guided Jaime inside. Bart followed them, while Dick talked to Tim in the yard. Roy gave Jaime an ice pack from the freezer, and he sat down at the dinner table, sighing.

Bart began to speak, "I told-"

 _"I know!"_

Bart looked away.

"Lo siento, hombre. I didn't mean to lash out like that. I'm just frustrated." Jaime explained.

"Yeah, I guess." Bart sighed, "You need to make up with him."

"I know." Jaime acknowledged, but this time in a much more calm and gentle tone, "I just don't know how. Whenever he starts yelling, I just get so mad."

"Maybe you should learn to control yourself first." Bart suggested.

"I'll try."

x

"Another nightmare?" Bart asked as Jaime woke up with start, once again crying.

Jaime sighed in frustration, "I'm sick of these."

"Sorry." Bart apologized, beginning to wonder if his insistence on knowing who Blue Beetle was last Thursday started triggering the terrors.

"Whatever. Can we just do something to pass the time? To make me forget?" Jaime asked.

"Like what? Small room. There's not much to do." Bart replied.

"There's a door in the closet that leads up to the attic. Maybe we can take a look around or something. I dunno." Jaime suggested.

"There is?" Bart raised an eyebrow, "Dude! Haven't you seen horror movies? There's probably like... demons up there."

Jaime rolled his eyes, "Come on." he said, pulling off his blankets and going towards the closet and opening the creaky door that lead to the attic. Bart gulped, but followed.

Jaime began to make his way carefully up the attic, pretty much every step groaning when any form of weight was put on them. He made his way to the top, and reached around to try and find any source of light. He felt a cord that dangled from the ceiling, and he pulled it. An old and dim light-bulb barely illuminated the attic. They could barely make out the silhouettes of old furniture in the distance. The furniture that was close enough for the light to shine upon were covered in creepy, old, white and dusty sheets. They were so dusty, they almost looked grey. There were also many random cardboard boxes scattered everywhere, in which nobody bothered to try and organize.

 _"Ah..."_ Bart said in uncertainty.

"What? You scared?" Jaime teased.

"No!" Bart protested, and to prove his point, he began to walk ahead of Jaime, deeper into the old attic. Suddenly, a pop was heard, the old light bulb went out, and they were stranded in the pitch black. Bart screamed like a child, immediately turning around, trying to run back into the safe haven of their room.

"Ese, _what are you-"_ Jaime said as he was caught off-guard by being tackled onto the floor.

"Sorry! I can't see anything!" Bart panicked, trying to stand up and find his balance.

Jaime yelped in pain.

"Dude? Are you okay?"

 _"You stepped on my fucking dick!"_

"Oh! _Sorry!"_ Bart apologized once again, trying to find something to get a grip on so he could pull himself up.

"Why are you pulling on my arm?" Jaime grumbled.

"God fucking dammit." Bart grumbled, not caring about his language. "Move. You're in my way."

"I can't see anything!" Jaime grumbled back, trying to stand up. Bart was the one this time to yelp in pain.

"You just headbutted my nose!" he said in a muffled voice.

"It's not my fault!"

"Shit, I think it's bleeding!"

"Listen, ese. We're not going to move, and we'll just wait for someone to find us." Jaime suggested.

"Okay- okay. Good plan." Bart agreed, and about fifteen seconds passed.

"Your bloody nose is dripping on my face." Jaime said, annoyed.

"I can't stop it!" Bart cried, and he could feel Jaime shifting to try and move his face away.

"How long do you think we're gonna have to wait?" he asked.

 _"I don't know!"_ Jaime hissed.

Then, Bart's head snapped towards the stairs as he heard a series of footsteps traveling upon them. A couple of lights were shone into the attic, and then onto he and Jaime.

"What in the hell are you two doing up here?" Mr. Kent demanded. Jaime, finally getting his vision back, shoved Bart off of him, sighing with relief.

"There's blood all over your face, son." Mr. Kent informed.

"Yeah. I'm aware." Jaime grumbled. He could see Conner standing in confusion. The two Kents helped them out of the mess of boxes and furniture, and back down the steps. The first thing Jaime did was go to the bathroom and wash his face off before returning to the bedroom. Conner had fetched a box of tissues for Bart.

"Care for an explanation?" Mr. Kent demanded, arms folded, a serious look on his face.

"We- uh, got bored." Jaime explained.

"Bored? At three in the morning? You _should_ be sleeping." Mr. Kent countered.

"Hey hombre, no disrespect but, this kid just bled on me for like, a full minute. I'm not in a good mood. Maybe tomorrow." Jaime informed.

"What kind of position would you have to be in for his nose blood-drops to land on your face?" Conner asked.

"I-" Jaime's face went red, and with the dim light on the bedroom, he was glad nobody could see his reaction to Conner's question. "I don't know. Okay, here's the truth. We thought we heard footsteps up there so we went to check it out. Yeah, it's dumb, I know. But we were suspicious and crept out. So the light went out, and Bart freaked out and tried to go back down. He ran me over. We were trying to make our way out through all of the boxes, but we couldn't. I ended up hitting him in the nose so hard, it bled."

Mr. Kent nodded, "Go back to bed." he said simply before he and Conner exited the room.

Bart gave Jaime a strange look before saying, "You didn't tell them the reason we were up there was because of wanting to forget the nightmares."

"I didn't want to tell them, okay? Just because I told you doesn't mean I'm gonna go around telling everybody at this damn farm." Jaime grumbled.

"Alright, fine." Bart said, flipping over to get comfortable, "Let's never do that again."

"Yeah. I agree." Jaime said, and Bart didn't reply. By the sounds of soft snoring, Jaime could tell he had already fell asleep.

 **THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 21ST**

Jaime didn't even look at Bart the next morning during breakfast, and it was noticed by Mrs. Kent.

"Is there something going on between you two?" she asked.

"Hmm? No, Mrs. Kent." Bart responded. Jaime glared at him. Bart glared back. They began to have a small argument. The others at the table didn't seem to take notice; Mr. Kent was reading a thick book, Roy and Jade were having some sort of medical conversation, Cassie was looking at her nails, Conner sat in silence as usual, Tim looked half-asleep, and Dick just seemed high out of his mind.

"Look! Dude, _I'm sorry_ I bled on your face! _Okay?"_ Bart stood up and shouted.

The others at the table all turned their attention towards the two. A couple of awkward silent seconds passed before Bart laughed nervously and rubbed the back of his neck, "It's an uh... personal issue. Don't mind us."

"Yeah, I'm leaving." Jaime announced as he grabbed his plate and carelessly placed it into the sink. He left, and the shutting of the screen door was the only thing heard in the room. Bart repeated, following him outside.

"Heyheyhey!" he said, catching up.

"Thanks for announcing to the entire household that you bled on my face last night." Jaime rolled his eyes.

"Hey man, the attic was your idea in the first place. And they'll get over it. Wanna do anything special?" Bart asked. The question was so sudden that Jaime had stopped walking.

"Well, Mr. Kent nor Mrs. Kent never assigned us to anything." Jaime pointed out.

"Maybe we can surprise them with something." Bart offered, "Like look at that all of those scattered plants over there. We can take care of them." he ran up to them, and Jaime sighed before following.

"What the hell?" he asked, stopping, "Hermano, this is marijuana."

"Well... Dick did say he had his ways." Bart chuckled, "You know what? Let's not bother with that."

Jaime nodded in agreement. They continued walking, until they reached the treeline at the front of the property. The dirt road that Roy had used to get into the farm was seen in front of them.

"Wanna walk down it?" Bart asked.

Jaime shrugged, "I don't know." he said turning around, "We're getting kind of far from the house."

"Where's your sense of adventure?" Bart challenged, "Cm'on, I'll race you." he began to run.

Not knowing what to do, Jaime ran up with him. But goddammit Bart was _fast_. They continued down the path, and Jaime had squint so the dirt that Bart kicked up wouldn't get in his eyes. Soon, Bart took a break as they neared a bridge over a creek. Jaime hadn't even noticed the creek nor the fact that they crossed a small bridge while nearing the property, but he didn't care. Bart leaned over the bridge to catch his breath, looking down at the calm waters, listening to them lap up and down the sides of the creek slowly. Tall trees of orange, yellow, red, and some green surrounded it.

"Isn't it pretty?" Bart asked after they caught their breath.

"Yeah." Jaime responded, "I wish I had a phone on me so I could take a photo."

"Would Blue Beetle have a camera in his armor?" Bart asked.

"Huh? Uh... no. Why?" Jaime gave Bart a perplexed look.

"Why not?" Bart responded, "I mean, saving pictures and everything."

"I guess it'd be cool." Jaime shrugged, and then smiled as he saw a herd of deer begin to drink out of the creek.

"Hey Bart. Look." he whispered.

Bart let out a small gasp, "Aw! It's little deers!"

"The plural for deer is 'deer', ese." Jaime informed.

"Sh." Bart whispered, not caring if he was grammatically incorrect.

The herd of deer suddenly ran in fear, and Bart and Jaime gave a confused look to each other, wondering what caused them to run. Had the herd spotted them? Then, they noticed a bear approached the water, and it began fishing.

"Move slowly." Jaime said, and Bart nodded. They began to make their way across the bridge, and quickly ran after they were off. Once they believed they were in safe distance, they continued walking. The house was now in eyesight. Tired, Bart turned to one of the smaller trees that was near the house and sat down underneath it.

"Well, that was cool, I guess." Bart said as he leaned his head back on the trunk.

"Yeah."

Silence.

"So are we like friends now or something?" Bart asked out of the blue.

Jaime hesitated, not sure what to answer, "Well... you don't annoy the shit out of me anymore." he chuckled.

Bart chuckled back. Jaime couldn't tell if he was actually amused, or disappointed by the answer but pretended to be amused just so things wouldn't become awkward.

"So what would Blue Beetle be like living out here?" Bart asked.

"He would... probably fly around every night. To see the views and everything. And it's not like anyone would spot him. He'd be extra useful for the farm because he can staple stuff, use sonic cannons and plasma cannons if things ever need destroyed or revamped, plus the armor makes him stronger."

"What about Impulse?" Bart asked.

"I don't know. You answer that." Jaime insisted.

"Well, Impulse would get things done way too quickly, then get bored. He would have explored every bit of this land by the second day after arriving. He would go through walls to greet people instead of knocking." Bart told him.

"Haha. I can see that." Jaime created the image in his mind, "Just waking up in the morning to a dude vibrating through your wall, telling you breakfast is ready."

Bart laughed along.

"We should get going back. Mr. Kent probably has stuff he wants us to do." Jaime explained.

Bart nodded in agreement.

And as they walked, the house became closer and closer.


	6. Chapter 6

**WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER:**

 **-homophobia**

 **-chickens possessed by Trigon**

* * *

 **FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 22ND**

If you told Bart two weeks ago that he'd be running away from home to work on a farm with a bunch of drug dealers and would become roommates with Jaime Reyes, he'd laugh.

Now? Not so much.

He couldn't believe it. Two weeks have already passed. Two weeks since he last went 'missing'. Two weeks since his father claimed he'd 'beat the fag out of him'. Hell, he hadn't looked at a phone screen for two weeks, much less been on the internet. Most teenagers can't say the same.

"I drew you another Impulse."

Bart was snapped out of his train of thought, and he turned around to face Jaime handing him a paper. He took it, and smiled, "Impressive."

Impulse was running, a red and cream-colored streak behind him. There were tiny little lightning bolts strewn across his body, and his hair was blown back. Bart could just _see_ the speed in the picture. He placed it on his night stand.

"Mr. Kent wants us to shuck some corn." Jaime informed, "Cm'on, let's go."

Bart nodded, and they quickly made their way down to the back porch, and shucked corn in a peaceful silence. Footsteps were heard from the old wood behind them, and they both turned their heads to see Tim approaching them. Jaime tensed, suddenly tightening his grip around the corn he was holding. Though, Tim didn't seem to pose a threat. He walked sheepishly, and his hands were in his hoodie pockets. Slowly, he sat down behind them.

"What do you want, Tim?" Jaime growled, returning to his shucking.

"I wanted to say sorry." Tim informed.

Jaime stopped in his movements, "Oh?" he raised an eyebrow.

"It was a dumb fight. Cassie and I made up. Drunk people are never reasonable. You're my best friend, Jaime. I can't be mad at you." Tim apologized, "Can we please make up?"

"Sure." Jaime smiled, standing up, "Come on, give me a hug."

Tim smiled, hugging his friend before nodding and leaving. Jaime returned to his work.

"Is the reunion over? I shucked like, five corns while you two were occupied." Bart informed.

"You wanted us to make up." Jaime pointed out.

"Yeah. I guess. Come on, we should load all of this onto the wagon." Bart switched the subject. Jaime nodded in agreement, and they continued to work.

x

Bart sat silently, picking at his food while Jaime and Tim were cracking up over some inside joke. He had Jaime's full attention for only a week, but now he felt awkward being alone.

"Is there something wrong, Bart?" Mrs. Kent asked, "You're not eating."

"I'm fine. My stomach is just kind of upset, that's all." Bart lied. He quickly finished off his food and placed it in the sink. He looked over his shoulder, and Tim and Jaime weren't even halfway done with their plates.

"Bart, can you collect eggs from the hens' nest for me?" Mr. Kent requested. Bart nodded.

He began to walk out to the chickens' coop, making his way into the tight opening. The sleeping hens began to panic, and Bart yelped as he was swarmed with an array of flying feathers, pulling on his clothes and hair. He blocked his eyes so they wouldn't get pecked out. Quickly, he grabbed three eggs, and tried to make his way out, but not before one of the hens sliced his cheek open. He yelped, and tumbled out of the coops, barely preserving the eggs he had in his hand. He began to run, the chickens chasing after him. He jumped the wire-fence, running as fast as he could with the angry chickens still chasing him. He quickly made it into the house, slamming the screen door shut behind him, the angry chickens slamming themselves against it.

"Mr-Mr. Kent." he said, "I got your eggs." he displayed the three eggs. Mr. Kent raised an eyebrow, and walked towards him, grabbing a feather out of Bart's hair, inspecting it. He then used his thumb to wipe off some blood off of Bart's face.

"Did you go _inside_ the chicken coop?" he asked, a mixed emotion of concern and amusement on his face.

"Yeah. I'm not supposed to?" he asked, confused. Mr. Kent chuckled, guiding Bart to the dining table and sitting him down, Mrs. Kent fetching him a wet washcloth and band-aids.

"There's trays you can pull out and see if there are eggs in there. I told you all this when you first arrived a few weeks ago." Mr. Kent explained to the teen.

"Oh." Bart blushed, "I'm stupid. Sorry, I forgot."

"It's okay, son. But three eggs aren't going to feed a house of ten. You can leave now. I'll take care of the eggs." Mr. Kent informed.

"Sorry." Bart apologized again.

 _"Go,_ Bart."

Bart nodded before leaving the house, and then screaming again as the chickens began to chase him, completely forgetting they were out there. They angrily clucked, obviously not done with him. Both of the elderly Kents came out of the house, each grabbing two of the four chickens in their arms and holding them down. Bart chuckled nervously before casually stepping off the porch, and towards the outdoors. He wondered where everybody else was. He nearly fell backwards as a flash of brown passed him. He looked to see Tim riding on top of Samuel, then nearly fell backwards again as a flash of gray passed him, to which, Jaime was riding on top of Misty. Afterwards, a larger flash of horses sped past him, and the laughs of humans followed.

"Oh, so this is what I get for getting dinner the earliest." he mumbled, "Clawed in the face by chickens. While they get to pretend they're five years old riding horses."

He watched as they played around. After a few minutes, Cassie and her horse trotted up to him, a curious look on her face. He had only held a legitimate conversation with her once, and that was when they were washing Prince (which, coincidentally, was the horse Cassie was on right now), about how they thought the mixture of hot dogs and macaroni and cheese was totally underrated. The only other thing Bart could recall that happened between them was her holding him down as he got tied up, and then cutting him open the next day. Not exactly the greatest friendship starter.

Yet again, Jaime had pointed a gun to his head and threatened to kill him about three times, so it definitely wasn't impossible to be friendly to her.

"Hey. What's up?" she smiled. Bart smiled back. She had a nice smile. Maybe becoming friends with the blonde wouldn't be such a bad thing.

"Just got attacked by a bunch of crazy hens. Otherwise, not much." Bart rubbed the back of his neck.

"Well, how exciting for you. Come on, ride with me. There aren't any horses left for you." Cassie explained, and held out her hand in offering.

"Are you sure?" Bart raised an eyebrow. Man, she was being too friendly. It was suspicious.

"I mean, yeah. Unless you don't want to." she shrugged.

"Sure, why not." Bart accepted the offer, grabbing her hand, and getting on the back of the horse, awkwardly wrapping his arms around her waist. Cassie grinned, and snapped the reigns, and Prince took off flying. Bart screamed at the sudden speed, then began laughing, trying to move Cassie's flying hair out of his face. She laughed along with him.

"Watch this." she told him, and began to run side-by-side with Tim. The dark haired teen only let a small grin, then Cassie suddenly snapped the reigns once again, and Prince ran faster, passing Samuel. Tim took this as a challenge, and began to race along. The horses ran neck and neck, and it wasn't long before they began to approach a fence.

"Holy shit. Cassie. Stop the horse!" Bart cried, the memory of being thrown off Gingers a few weeks previous flooding back to him.

"The best way to overcome your fears is to face them!" Cassie shouted right back. Bart let out a terrified scream as Prince leaped over the fence, landing swiftly over the other side. Bart laughed as he realized he didn't fly off.

Cassie herself couldn't stop smiling.

x

"You're a lot cooler than I thought you were." Cassie admitted as they began to set up the bonfire that'd be taking place that night.

"You really think so?" Bart grinned like an idiot, "Everyone's always interpreted me as an annoying jock. It took Jaime a while to change his mind."

"Yeah, which is surprising to me. But right now," Cassie turned her head to Jaime and Tim, who were cutting wood, "He's all up in bromance land with Tim."

"Shouldn't it be the other way? Like, he's all in romance land with you. I heard you guys made up." Bart commented.

"We did. But dudes need their dude time. Just like girls need their girl time." Cassie explained, "I'm glad Jade's here. I think I'd go crazy if there wasn't another girl around."

"Mrs. Kent." Bart pointed out.

"Yeah, well she's like, forty-five years older than me. Jade is only eight. Which may sound like a lot, but compared to Mrs. Kent, not really." Cassie explained.

"Then why don't you spend your time with her?" Bart asked before realizing what he said might come off as offensive, "Wait, no. I didn't mean it like that. I'm just wondering why you'd choose me over her."

"Jade is a girl, yes, but you're still closer to my age range. Besides, she's too busy sucking faces with Roy." Cassie rolled her eyes and chuckled.

 _"Roy?"_ Bart asked, genuinely surprised, "That's strange... I'd never imagine that."

"Oh yeah, I saw it. I walked in on them making out while I was going to our room." Cassie began to laugh, "You know what they did? Roy offered to give me weed for free if I didn't tell the Kents."

"Isn't that Dick's thing?" Bart asked.

"Yeah. But Roy is kind of involved with it as well." Cassie nodded.

"Well, did you accept the offer?"

Cassie smirked, "Maybe."

"We've got the rest of the wood."

The voice came so suddenly that it threw Bart off. He looked behind himself to see Jaime carrying a few chopped wood pieces, and for some reason, he couldn't help but glare at the Hispanic teen. Tim was gone from his life for one week so he practically came running to Bart. And when Tim returned, he barely acknowledged his presence. He felt _used._ At least Cassie wasn't using him as some sort of coping method.

Was she?

Jaime raised an eyebrow in confusion at Bart's scowl, then ignored him, setting the pieces down into the pit before standing back up and looking at the progress they had made so far.

"So, what are you two ladies up to?" Tim snickered as he approached them with his own wood pieces. Jaime elbowed him in response. Tim let out a small grunt. Bart couldn't help but grin, despite the fact that he had no idea whether or not the "two ladies" were him and Jaime or him and Cassie.

"Oh and by the way, Jade went out to buy some stuff for tonight." Tim informed, then switched the subject, "Has anybody seen Conner? He should be helping us with this stuff. Dude's strong as hell."

"He's inside helping Mrs. Kent clean the house. Big guys can do little work too." Cassie smiled.

"They can, but they shouldn't." Tim insisted, "Whatever. I'm going inside for break. Oh yeah, and Bart, Mr. Kent wants to see you inside the barn."

The sentence had caught Bart off guard, "Wait, why?"

Tim shrugged, obviously not really caring about the whole situation. Bart got up the ground, small twigs snapping and leaves crunching in the process as he began to make his way to the barn. As predicted, Mr. Kent was inside, waiting for him.

"Hey." Bart said monotonously, waiting for the request from Mr. Kent as he approached. The elderly man smiled, and before speaking, showed Bart a small bedding full of piglets feeding off a sow.

"Aww." Bart said, "They're little piggies."

"This sow isn't producing enough milk for all eleven." Mr. Kent explained, "I need you to be able to feed them. You'll need to be able to create formula and put it in a few bottles per night, then in the fridge. And come back everyday around noon to feed them, then the next day, put them in the microwave. Keep an eye on the little ones especially."

"Wait, whoa." Bart stopped him, "Why are you putting all of this responsibility on my shoulders? I mean, like, why m-"

"You don't have a lot of self-confidence, do you, son?" Mr. Kent, putting a hand on Bart's shoulder and gripping it in reassurance, "I chose you for this task because I thought you'd be the best suited for it."

"O-okay." Bart stammered.

Mr. Kent removed his hand and picked up a bottle that was sitting nearby, "Here, I'll show you how to do it. When we get back to the house, I'll show you how to properly create the formula."

Bart watched with interest as Mr. Kent began to feed one of the piglets.

"Tip the head back somewhat like this. Not too much though, or it could get down the windpipe. Hold the piglet nice and snug so it feels secure."

Once he was done feeding the piglet, he handed the second-half of the bottle to Bart, who hesitantly got onto his knees and gently scooped up one of the pigs. It freaked out at first, but Bart wouldn't let that discourage him. He tilted the head back, and began to feed the pig. It stopped protesting, and happily took the formula.

"You're already doing good at this." Mr. Kent complimented, "You'll do fine."

Bart just grinned like a fool.

x

 _"Jaime?"_

"What is it, Bart?"

 _Improvement,_ Bart noted, as Jaime wasn't telling him to fuck off and go to bed, "Are you friends with Cassie still?"

"I mean, I dunno, really. Things are kind of weird. But you seem to be. But isn't she hot like I told you? You're lucky, she seems interested in you." Jaime asked, then bit his tongue, "Wait- lo siento. I forgot."

"That's okay. I can see why other guys would find her attractive, anyways." Bart responded, then switched the subject, "You seem to be all buddy-buddy with Tim again."

"Yeah. Definitely. It's great to be that way again. I missed being friends with him." Jaime admitted.

"So do you want to do something tomorrow? Like, tomorrow morning?" Bart asked suddenly, and Jaime was quiet for a few moments, and Bart began to regret asking that question.

"I mean, like what?" Jaime finally responded.

"Maybe we can run in the woods again. We can ask to take the horses if you want, too." Bart suggested.

"Sure. Okay. Cool." Jaime agreed, "'Night."

"'Night."

 **SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 23RD**

"And this is what I call a view!" Jaime exclaimed as they neared the top of the old tree, Bart holding on for dear life, "You scared?"

"Yeah. I'm actually very close to shitting myself, to be honest." Bart admitted as he wrapped his hands around the trunk as if he were a sloth.

"Well, don't. It smells nice up here." Jaime said, casually leaning back on the trunk, his feet on a branch extending from it.

"I'm immensely regretting this decision. I love, love, love, being on the ground. My feet are supposed to be on ground. How are you so comfortable with this?"

Jaime shrugged, "You're the one who wanted to come out to the woods." he then changed the subject, "What would really be cool right now is a harmonica. Or a banjo. You know that stereotypical country stuff. Or even better, my sketchbook."

"How are you willing to draw when you're like a hundred-fifty feet up in the air?"

Jaime shrugged again, "It just feels right."

Bart rolled his eyes, "Can we please go back down now?"

"Okay. But I'll only hang out with you again if you promise to climb another tree with me and not act like such a puss about it." Jaime informed.

"Are you seriously _blackmailing_ me?" Bart asked in disbelief.

"Not exactly." Jaime insisted.

"Well, if that's the case, then you can't complain if actually do end up shitting myself or cling onto you like a monkey." Bart replied.

"Okay, fine. Let's shake on it." Jaime held out his hand.

"There's _no way_ I'm taking my hand off this trunk."

Jaime rolled his eyes, "Fine. We'll get down _then_ shake on it."

"Yeah. Let's do that."

x

"Stop!" Jaime exclaimed as he suddenly pulled Misty to a halt. Bart had heard him over the loud galloping, and had Ginger stop. Jaime trotted up to him, looking into the distance. A few glinting images made their way behind the trees, and the sound of cars could be heard.

"We're too close to the main road." Jaime commented, peering closer to the distance, "A place where cop cars love to hang out as well." he said as he saw a parked police car some distance away as he went past the trees.

"No kidding." Bart commented, seeing it as well.

"Come on, let's go back." Jaime said, turning around and heading back towards the house, Bart right on his trail.

x

"Where _were_ you all day?" Tim commanded as he saw Jaime walk past him.

"I was hanging out with Bart. Why?" Jaime asked.

"You promised to help me tend to the cows this afternoon. Dude, I waited for like, an hour." Tim grumbled.

"Oh my god. Sorry. I totally forgot about that. It's my fault." Jaime admitted.

"And why does it seem that these days you like that faggoty-looking fuck better than me anyways?" Tim grumbled once again.

Jaime's eyes widened, then his face reddened, "Don't use that word." he mumbled quietly.

"Why would you care? Are you gay?" Tim demanded.

"I'm _not_ gay. I just don't think it's right to call people that." Jaime informed, "You don't have to be gay to recognize homophobia. That's like saying white people can't recognize racism."

Tim rolled his eyes, "Oh, really? But you can't deny it. He's a little hairless twig. And at school he was always hanging around girls."

"That doesn't mean anything." Jaime rolled his eyes back.

"Whatever. I don't care. I think he looks faggoty. And it's stupid how you've known him for like, two weeks, and suddenly you're best friends. I've known you for over five years."

"I spent almost all day yesterday with you!" Jaime countered, "I can have more than one friend, you know!"

"What is up with you, Jaime?" Tim looked in concern, "What has he done to you?"

 _"What?"_ Jaime commanded.

"Old Jaime wouldn't care about me calling people faggots. And he would spend time with his friends, not the over-optimistic athlete crowd." Tim insisted, then looked down, "Ever since we've got here Jaime, you've been _different._ I don't like it."

"I never meant to change, Tim."

"I'm not saying you meant it, dude." Tim put a hand on his shoulder, "In fact, I think it was that little dude casting some sort of weird social trick on you. I'm not sure. But I'm the one here for you. I've been here for you for all of these years."

"Right." Jaime acknowledged,

"Right."

x

"Hey Jaime, I actually found this cool strea-"

"Forget it, Bart." Jaime said as he got into his bed.

"Huh?" Bart asked, in confusion.

"We can't be friends. I'm sorry. Really." Jaime apologized.

"Wait, why not?" Bart asked, raising an eyebrow.

"We're just too different. We don't mix." Jaime explained.

"Where the hell is this coming from?" Bart demanded, starting to get angry.

"You changed me, Bart." Jaime replied, and Bart couldn't tell if it was a disappointed tone or a reluctant tone.

"What? How? Dude, I don't care about changing you. I just wanna hang out." Bart admitted, "And besides, even if I did change you, isn't it good change?"

Jaime was silent for a few moments, "Whether or not it was a good or bad change is irrelevant. I just don't like it."

"But-"

"'Night." Jaime rolled onto his side.

"...'Night."

 **SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 24TH**

"What's wrong? You look bummed." Cassie commented as she saw Bart sitting on the porch bench.

"I kind of am."

"Oh? What happened?"

"Apparently Jaime and I can't be friends because I've changed him too much." Bart sighed, "I don't get it either."

"Who needs them anyways?" Cassie insisted, and Bart looked up in curiosity.

"I thought you liked them."

She shrugged. "Eh. We're on good terms. But you're a lot cooler than they are. You don't act like you have a stick up your ass three-fourths of the day."

Bart laughed, "I guess so. You wanna hang out?"

Cassie grabbed his hand and began to run, _"Let's go!"_

"Uh- okay, then. Right." Bart said, allowing her to drag him.

She finally stopped in front of the barn, guiding him in. Bart passed the litter of pigs that he had been taking care of for the past two days. She began to guide him to the hay loft up above.

"Are we allowed to be up here?"

"Don't know."

"I don't like heights." Bart said as he finally got to the loft.

"Oh, but you'll like this." Cassie reassured, and she began to make a clicking noise with her tongue. An orange cat suddenly appeared from the hay, happily approaching Cassie, his tail raised and bent in the air as he walked. She extended her hand, rubbing the orange tom behind the ears, and he began to purr. Bart watched in disbelief.

"I call him Kitty. I've been taming him ever since we first got here. He's a nice cat." Cassie explained, "Here, you try petting him."

Hesitantly, Bart stuck out his hand, and Kitty sniffed it, and licked a few fingers. Bart laughed, and then began to pet him. The cat happily purred along. It almost reminded Bart of the cat, Phoenix, that Dick had mentioned a few weeks ago.

"So, uh, Cassie-" Bart began, then cut himself off.

"Hmm?"

"Never mind. It's probably a personal question."

"We're gonna get to know each other anyways, so just ask." Cassie insisted.

"I'm just wondering... how did you get yourself into the whole drug-dealing thing in the first place?"

She sighed, "Well, back in the ninth grade, I started dating Tim. He had this thing going on with Jaime by then. I wanted to like, you know, get involved... I don't think Tim wanted me to, but eventually did let me. And it's been like that for the past two years."

"Did you have any family?" Bart asked, wondering if he went too far.

"No, not really. Just my mom. And she's a scientist, always away at her lab... so I spent the majority of my life alone at home. I had a few friends here and there too, but not ones I would miss too much. Jaime and Tim were basically the only ones close to me." Cassie explained, then raised an eyebrow and looked at him, "But what about you? You had a lot of friends and family back home, and a girlfriend too, if I'm not mistaken."

"I did." Bart sighed, "I know I did."

"So why did you come with us?"

Bart bit his lip, "I uh... had a lot of social expectations that I didn't exactly live up to, I guess."

"Huh?"

"It's complicated. It's _really_ complicated."

"We have all of the time in the world." Cassie reminded him, "You can open up to me if you want."

"It's not like, personal or anything." Bart lied, "But it's just a weird scenario that's hard to explain. Whatever the case, I don't regret coming here, at _all."_

"That's a powerful thing you're saying there, Bart." Cassie pointed out.

"I know. And the thing is, I don't want to leave. I want to stay here as long as possible. It's safe here." Bart replied, "How long do you think we'll stay here?"

"Ideally, two years, but even that's pushing it. Honestly, I'm not sure how long it will take before the cops find out we're here. I feel like fucking Anne Frank."

"Actually, Anne Frank was in that hiding place for two years. She died right before the holocaust ended. That sucks." Bart commented.

"Yeah. I'm scared of being Anne Frank. I'm scared we'll end up being super close to freedom, but then get thrown in jail last second." Cassie mumbled.

"Same here." Bart said, looking down at Kitty, who was now happily sitting in his lap.

The doors to the barn swung open, and Mr. Kent's shadow stretched across the ground. He looked up, a stern look on his face.

"Bart, what are you doing up there? It's time for you to feed the piglets. Did you forget?"

"Oh, sorry!" Bart exclaimed, gently pushing Kitty off of him, and making his way down the hayloft. He approached Mr. Kent, who was holding three formula bottles in his hand.

"I had to heat these up for you. I don't want you to forget again." he scolded.

"I'm sorry. I just got caught up in things." Bart apologized again as he took the bottles from Mr. Kent. The elderly man looked back up to where Cassie was sitting.

"Cassie, come with me. I need you to help Conner turn the soil. And what were you guys doing up in the hayloft anyways?"

Cassie began to make her way down the ladder, and Bart spoke, "Talking. Hanging out. It's just a cool spot."

"Whatever you were doing, the hayloft isn't a place to hang out. It's for hay." Mr. Kent lectured.

"Yeah, we understand." Bart acknowledged, "Sorry."

Mr. Kent gave one last nod before making his way out of the barn, Cassie behind him.

He picked up the smallest pig, and began to feed it. What was strange about this pig, Bart noticed, was that it was the only one that didn't have black spots on his body. The pig happily fed, and the other small piglets squealed, waiting for their turn. Once he was done with the spotless pig, he moved onto the others, until all three bottles were gone. He looked in concern as he realized the spotless pig would distance itself from the litter.

"Hey Porky," he said as he bent down and picked it up, "Are you alright?"

The small piglet buried its head into the sweatshirt Bart was wearing.

"Ha, you're cute."

The little pig made a squeaking noise. Smiling, Bart held the pig for a few more moments before letting it go back on the ground. Satisfied, he closed the pen and stepped over it, to return the bottles back to the house. The runt began to squeal, obviously not happy about Bart's depart. He bit his lip, stepping back into the pen, and sat down, the piglet burying itself into his jacket again.

"Okay. I'll hang out with you for a few minutes, but after this, I really have to leave."

He gently stroked the piglet, until it fell asleep. Slowly, he put the pig back down on the ground, and quietly made his way over the pen. He began to walk back to the house, and Mrs. Kent took the formula bottles to wash. Bart began to walk back outside, and noticed through the window that Tim and Jaime were playing around, Tim had a hose in his hand and Jaime was trying to run from the water being sprayed at him. He sighed, disappointed. Maybe after a few weeks, he and Cassie could have a friendship like that. He walked out, finally, only to see Jade with a long and skinny knife, apparently carving something out of wood. Bart knew it wouldn't be long until Mr. Kent requested him to do something else, so he sat on the porch bench, watching with interest.

"What are you carving?"

The young woman looked up at him in curiosity, and she smiled, "Bart, aren't you?"

"Yeah."

"I'm carving a bow for my little sister. I've done this multiple times."

"You can carve bows?" Bart raised an eyebrow.

"Yes. I learned how to do it when I stayed with my cousins in Vietnam. My mother's side of the family has a thing for archery. Me, personally, I'm not too crazy, but my sister Artemis lives and breathes it. I should be finished with the bow by the time I go home."

"Wait, Artemis?" the name struck Bart as familiar, and he tried to think of where he heard it from before.

"What about her?" Jade asked.

"Oh. It's nothing. My cousin Wally had a girlfriend named Artemis." Bart explained.

"Oh? What was her last name?"

"Crocker, maybe? I'm not sure." Bart admitted.

"Crock?"

"Yeah! That's it!"

"Well then, it's a small world we live in, Bart." she smiled, "That's my sister you're speaking of. I'm assuming you've met her?"

"A couple of times at family gatherings, yeah." Bart explained, "It was nice talking to you. I should probably go now, though. Mr. Kent will want me for something."

Jade nodded in acknowledgement, and Bart got off the bench and stepped off the porch. It was strange to think that if Artemis and Wally had a kid, they'd be related to both him and Jade.

Small, small, world.

Soon enough, he did see the elderly man approach him. He waited for a request to be given.

"We're doing some hay bailing tomorrow. You and Jaime are going to be filling up cart number three." Mr. Kent explained.

"Wait, _me and Jaime?"_ Bart asked suddenly.

"Yes, is there something wrong with that? You two seemed to be getting along fine." Mr. Kent commented.

"No, there's nothing wrong." Bart lied.

"Good. You should probably get back to the house, actually. Lunch should be ready in a few minutes."

"R-right." Bart stammered before turning around.

 _Oh, wouldn't this be just great?_


	7. Chapter 7

**WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER:**

 **-homophobia**

 **-self-harm**

* * *

 **MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 25TH**

"Okay, Porky. Here's your formula." Bart said as he fed the little piglet, "Man you're getting fat."

The piglet squealed in response.

"I'm guessing that's a good thing."

x

Bart shifted uncomfortably, and Jaime didn't make a word. He tried to lift the hay by himself, but to no avail.

"Do you need help?"

"No."

Silence.

"Look, I don't know what you're thinking, but acting like I suddenly don't exist isn't going to solve your problem."

Jaime quit struggling with the hay and sighed, "Have Conner help you." He turned around and began to walk away.

"Are you _serious?"_ Bart hissed from behind. Jaime didn't listen and continued walking. Bart paid no mind. So what? Jaime could go act like he was on his man-period around somebody else. And he would be the one to get yelled at if Mr. Kent found out he suddenly dropped on his assignment, not Bart.

If it was going to be that way, then fine.

 _"Conner?"_

x

"I like you." the words suddenly came out of Bart's mouth as he and Cassie were drawing in the sand using sticks.

 _"Huh?"_ was Cassie's response, and a blush formed on her cheeks.

"I mean, uh- like... you don't throw little fits or hold grudges like it seems like everybody else at this farm does. You're just so simple... in a good way. Like you don't have a thousand unnecessary emotions." Bart explained.

Cassie smiled as she began to pet Kitty, who was on the ground next to them.

"Why'd that cat follow us, anyways?" Bart asked, "I heard barn cats usually don't like to leave their- well, barns."

"Maybe he just trusts us." Cassie guessed, then threw her stick in the nearby small stream suddenly, "It's getting late. We should probably get going back."

"Yeah."

x

"Need to-"

"No. Besides, it's nothing new." Jaime insisted after he awoke from his nightmare, standing up out of his bed to leave.

"Where are you going?" Bart asked curiously.

"The bathroom."

"Uh, okay then, have fun."

"What do you think I'm going to be doing, jacking off?" Jaime laughed somewhat. Bart could feel his heart flutter. Jaime had this weird cold shoulder-thing going on with him, and knowing he was acknowledging Bart's words and _laughing_ on top of that made him feel so much better.

Though, it suddenly disappeared when Jaime left the room.  
  
 **TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 26TH**

"Is he getting too fat?" Bart asked as he picked up Porky and showed him to Mr. Kent.

"I don't believe so. In fact, I'd say you're doing a good job. We're gonna need fat pigs by Easter, anyways." Mr. Kent commented.

Bart's heart sank. _Right. That's why_ farms had pigs. To _eat._ He felt stupid that the thought had never crossed his mind previously.

"Right." Bart acknowledged, trying to avoid letting his emotions out through his voice. Mr. Kent nodded before leaving the barn.

Next Easter would be April first. Then it'd have to be a joke, right? Like a several-months early April Fool's Day joke?

Oh, who was he kidding? Easter just happened to fall on April first next year.

He gulped, looking at Porky with concerned eyes. He knew he shouldn't be attached to a farm animal, but it was already too late. He had already named the piglet Porky.

Perhaps he could ask Mr. Kent to spare Porky?

 _Yeah, like that was going to happen._

Not knowing what else to do, he took Porky and began to climb up to the hayloft. He knew he couldn't keep him away from the mother too long, but some hangout time wouldn't hurt, right? He finally got to the top, letting himself lean against a haystack, Porky sleeping in his arms, and he gently stroked the little piglet.

 _How could anyone want to kill and eat something so innocent?_

Then, Bart recalled, he'd probably eaten ham, pork-chop, and ribs more times than he could count. He nearly felt himself throw up in his mouth.

After leaving the farm, he knew he'd never be able to look at lunch meat the same way again. Or at least meat made out of pigs. Lost in his trail of thoughts, Bart nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt a weight on his shoulder, and realized it was Kitty looking down at Porky curiously.

Then the thought hit Bart; why hadn't Kitty attempted to eat the little piglets days ago? Was he seriously unaware of their presence? Or a barn cat with morals?

Kitty didn't really seem to have an interest in Porky, and curled himself into a ball and lie down next to Bart. Bart looked up at the holes in the ceiling of the barn, subconsciously still petting Porky and drifting back into his thoughts of guilt from past meat-eating. This continued for a few more minutes, until the barn door swung open. Both Kitty and Porky suddenly stood up at the noise. The sight of Kitty was the next thing to frighten Porky, and even though he couldn't be any more than two weeks old, he began to sprint away in fear, and squealed at the same time.

 _"Porky! Wait!"  
_  
Bart began to run, and gasped as Porky fell over the edge of the hayloft. He looked over the edge, expecting to see the spread-out guts of the piglet spilled all over the floor. Instead, he saw nothing. Quickly, he climbed down the ladder, searching for signs of Porky.

"Looking for this?"

Bart spun around to face Jaime, who was holding the frightened pig in his arms. He gently placed him back into the pig pen, before approaching Bart, who was watching with his jaw dropped the entire time.

"Your pig had quite the flight over there. I thought he was a bird for a second." Jaime said, tints of amusement in his voice.

 _"How?"_ Bart asked in disbelief.

"Well, it's not everyday a pig falls in front of your face." Jaime insisted.

"No- not like _that._ I mean, how'd you catch him?" Bart repeated.

"Luck, I guess." Jaime shrugged, then his casual mood began to leave him, "Why the hell were you up there with such a little animal anyways?"

"I didn't mean it!" Bart responded quickly.

 _"What do you mean by that?"_ Jaime spat, "That doesn't make _any_ sense."

"I mean- I just- I thought it would be cool to- _ow!"_

Bart fell to the floor in surprise, holding his face. He looked up at Jaime with hurt in his eyes, "Why'd you do that?"

Jaime didn't seem to realize he had slapped Bart, and was in shock himself. He then snapped out of it, "You deserved it."

"But-"

"I didn't even mean to slap you. I just did. You needed to be slapped, anyways. It was a dumb thing you did." Jaime insisted.

 _"But-"_

"But _what,_ hermano?"

"You won't tell Mr. Kent, will you?" Bart requested, though he was pretty much begging for mercy at this point. Jaime had slapped him nearly a minute ago and his face still throbbed just as hard.

Jaime was silent for a few moments, "No. I won't. I'm not that kind of guy. Besides, I already took care of you." He began to turn around, picking up the chisel he had brought into the barn (and had dropped when he caught Porky), then placing it on the wall of a pen.

"Thank you!" Bart said suddenly to try and get back on good terms with Jaime.

But he didn't respond.

Not even with a grunt.

x

"You're so sweaty!" Bart laughed as he and Cassie finished up their task of thoroughly cleaning the barn. They had some of the others help them here and there, but it was mostly the two of them.

"Hey, you too." Cassie smiled, then it dropped. Bart raised an eyebrow in curiosity and confusion.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"I should be asking you the same thing, Bart." she insisted, her voice softening.

"What do you mean?" Bart asked.

"Something is bothering you. I know it." Cassie continued to insist.

Bart sighed in defeat, "Jaime slapped me earlier today."

Cassie was the one to raise her eyebrow this time, and she folded her arms, then frowned, "Why?" she asked, and he could tell she was being patient with the scenario at hand.

"I deserved it." Bart was the one to insist this time.

"Why'd you deserve it, Bart?" she asked.

He didn't know why, but her using his name like that made him shudder. He rubbed the back of his neck and blushed in embarrassment at the whole thing before telling her the story.

"I see." she said simply, then muttered something underneath her breath.

"What was that?" Bart asked, not knowing if what she said was intended for him to hear or not.

"Oh? Nothing." Cassie responded quickly, caught off guard.

"What were you saying?" Bart repeated.

"Nothing it's just... I can't believe I actually used to have some sort of interest in him. He may be handsome on the outside, but he's sure ugly on the inside." Cassie grumbled.

The sentence made Bart uncomfortable, and he tried not to make that obvious. Sure, Jaime could get a little broody and angry at times, but he wasn't _ugly_ on the inside, right? Cassie had been Jaime's friend for a long time, and that was a lot for her to say.

"I'm gonna go shower. See you later, Bart."

Bart was the one caught off guard this time, and looked at her suddenly, "Right. 'Night, Cass."

"'Night." she said as she left, and shut the barn door behind her, leaving Bart alone with the silence that came along.

 **WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 27TH**

"Bart, wake up." Cassie's voice came suddenly, and Bart shot up out of bed in surprise, wondering what she wanted.

"Yeah?" he asked groggily, rubbing his eyes, and recognizing the figures of Jaime and Cassie.

"Jaime has something to tell you." she told him. Jaime rolled his eyes.

"Sorry." he said blandly.

"Say it like you mean it." Cassie commanded.

"I'm sorry I slapped you yesterday." he said, trying to be more sincere.

Cassie smiled in satisfaction before leaving. Jaime scowled at him.  
 _  
"What?"_ Bart scowled back.

"Really, dude?" he asked, "You told Cassie about that?"

"It's not my fault! She ripped it out of me!" Bart defended, getting up, looking up at a mirror that was posted on one of the bedroom walls and fixing his messy bed hair.

"Oh, and by the way, breakfast is ready." Jaime said in a bland tone once again, before leaving the room.

 **FRIDAY, OCTOBER 13TH**

It was the last sentence Jaime had ever spoken to him, Bart recalled, as the weeks passed and Jaime kept up with his game that he made. By now, all of the trees had their fall colors and the nights were legitimately cold. When Bart asked Mrs. Kent what day it was (as he had stopped keeping track after the two-week mark), she told him, "Friday, the thirteenth of October."

Ha. What a lucky day.

Bart couldn't believe it had already been over one-month mark. He wondered if his school already had its homecoming yet- probably. Shame, he'd miss his very first homecoming as a freshman. But it didn't matter. Despite him missing out on his "un-relivable high school experience", he couldn't ask for much more. For the situation he was in back at home, he was pretty lucky. Here at the farm, his father wasn't here to beat him, or his friends to turn on him and bully him once they found out he was gay. He didn't have to worry about homework or tests either, which was great. In fact, being at the farm made him healthier. He ate better, and because of the physical work, he had gained muscle and wasn't so scrawny as he used to be.

And, he had felt like he had made a very good friend. Cassie. The two of them were two peas in a pod. He never suspected he'd become friends with a drug dealer at his school. It was kind of funny, now that he thought of it.

He and Cassie did basically everything together. They worked together, and got things done efficiently. They hung out together, and had the greatest of times.

"We should throw a Halloween party." Cassie thought suddenly as she sat up from the haystack she was lying on, pieces of hay stuck to her blonde hair.

Bart snorted, "Wait, why?"

"Because Halloween is coming up, duh." she elbowed him and laughed.

"Well, it's not like we'd have much to do. There wouldn't be that many people here, either." Bart pointed out.

"Yeah, I guess that's true. We can throw a semi-party, then." Cassie insisted.

"A _semi-party?"_ Bart laughed, "What is that, even?"

"It's a half-party. It's kind of a party, but kind of not." Cassie explained.

"You came up with that, didn't you?" Bart questioned.

"Maybe." Cassie smiled, then smiled even wider, "You know what, forget the party."

"Sounds cool." Bart nodded in agreement, "So what do you want to do?"

"I have a thing in mind." Cassie informed.

"Cool! What is-" Bart muffled the rest of it as she cut him off with a very sudden kiss. He sat still, shocked. She began to straddle him, pushing him back on the hay.

Finally catching up with reality, he separated them, looking at her in horror. Quickly, he pushed her off, and began to skid away suddenly, barely able to stop himself from falling off the hayloft.

She looked at him, disappoint and surprise the apparent emotions in her expression, "What's- _what's wrong?"_ she asked.

"I thought you and Tim made up." he said quickly.

"As friends."

"I, uh, aren't you a little too old for me?" Bart asked sheepishly.

"I was born in August. I can't be more than a little over a year older than you." Cassie insisted.

"Okay, uh, I just- ugh. Cassie, you're a very pretty girl, but I don't like you like that, okay?" he stuttered out the words.

She looked down, then looked back up at Bart, and an annoyed look sat upon her face. "You're gay, aren't you?"

"I-" Bart sighed in defeat, not even attempting to make up an excuse, "Yeah. I am."

"I should have known." she growled to herself. She began to get up, and make her way down the hayloft.

"Wait, where are you going?" he asked.

"To bed." she said blandly, and Bart watched her as she began to walk out of the barn.

"Cassie, I'm _sorry._ I _can't help_ it. I was _born_ this way!" Bart called out, still on the hayloft, and he quickly jumped off it on impulse, catching up with her. "Cassie, _please."_ he begged, "I can't help it." he repeated.

Cassie turned around, her blue eyes full of hurt, and she mumbled, "Yeah. I know." before turning around once again, speeding her way out of the door. Bart couldn't tell whether or not she was telling the truth when she said that. She slammed the barn door behind her, leaving Bart alone in the silence once again.

He stood there, silent for a few moments, thinking about what had just happened.

"Shit." he mumbled. He honestly didn't know what to think right now. Should he be crying? Screaming? Punching things? Whatever the case, he shouldn't just be _standing there,_ he knew that.

 _It's 2017. Same-sex marriage has been legal in all fifty states for over two years. Homophobia is frowned upon these days... right? Cassie can't be a homophobe. Right? ...Right?_

Bart grumbled in annoyance, looking over to Porky, who was now fat as hell and happily asleep in his nest with his litter mates.

Only if he could be in that position right now.

Sighing, he made his way out of the barn.

 _Don't do it._

 _Don't do it._

 _Bart, you have been clean for over a month, don't fucking do it._

Though that voice seemed so small compared to the others that screamed at him.

It was so, so, _small._

x

"Whoa there, Cass." Tim said as he quickly got off of his chair and grabbed her by the arm, "What's wrong?"

 _"Nothing."_ Cassie mumbled as she tore from his grasp, beginning to make her way upstairs.

 _"Cassie."_

She sighed, pausing herself in the middle of the staircase. "We'll talk about it in your room." she insisted, and continued her way up.

Tim nodded in agreement, and followed her. From the distance, Jaime raised an eyebrow in curiosity. What was wrong with her? Jaime knew Cassie well enough to know by now that she wasn't an emotional girl. But right now, she looked like she was ready to punch a hole through a wall while spilling tears at the same time. After she and Tim disappeared up the stairs, he followed. Tim closed the door to the room he shared with Dick, and Jaime listened to the muffled voices from outside.  
 _  
"What happened?"_

 _"Promise you won't be mad at me?"_

 _"Of course not!"_

 _"Well... I developed a crush on Bart and-"_

 _"Wait, seriously?"_ Tim laughed, _"Pfft-"_

 _"Tim..."_

 _"Sorry."_

 _"And I went to kiss him because I thought he was interested in me, too."_

 _"What happened?"_

 _"Well, I did. And he totally freaked out. Turns out he's gay."_

 _"I knew it!"_ Tim laughed from the other side, _"I knew it!"_

 _"Tim!"_ she snapped, and he apologized once more. She spoke again. _"I'm just so mad. That bastard lead me on for weeks. Only for me to find out he's gay."_

 _"Yeah, I can understand why you're mad. I'm always here to talk if you need me. Jaime too, probably."_

 _"Thanks, Tim."_

 _"Speaking of which, do you think we should tell him? That he's roommates with a gay guy? I mean, that'd be pretty awkward..."_

 _"Yeah, let's go find him."_

 _Shit,_ Jaime thought. Quickly, he began to make his way back downstairs, but the bedroom door swung open and Cassie spotted him.

"Jaime." she said, grabbing him by the shoulder, and he flinched, "Oops, sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."

"What is it, Cassie?" Jaime asked as obliviously as possible.

"Well it turns out that Bart," she whispered into his ear, _"-is gay."_

"Oh?" Jaime asked.

"Yeah."

"You don't seem bothered by this." Tim commented.

"There's not much to be bothered about." Jaime mumbled, trying to not let his annoyance slip out in his voice.

"You're perfectly comfortable sleeping in the same room as a homo?" Tim raised an eyebrow in suspicion.

"It doesn't matter." Jaime continued mumbling, "It's stupid to assume he's attracted to every guy he sees."

"Yeah," Tim agreed, then continued, "No homo _myself,_ but-"

Jaime rolled his eyes.

"-I could see why he would find you good-looking."

"So? Even then, why would it matter? It's not like he can do anything about it." Jaime countered.

"I don't know, man. White people are crazy." Tim chuckled.

"You're white." Jaime pointed out.

 _"Exactly._ I've seen it all." Tim explained, "Whatever, dude. Just don't get upset when somebody calls you gay."

"Like you?"

"No, not me. I know you're not gay, man. But others would totally call you gay." Tim insisted.

"I don't care. It's hardly an insult, anyways." Jaime insisted right back, "Where is he? I want to go talk to him."

Though Cassie switched the subject before her or Tim could answer, "You knew, didn't you?"

"What?" Jaime asked.

"You knew he was gay." Cassie insisted.

"Yeah. I have, for like, a month." Jaime admitted.

Tim just gave him a look mixed with horror and confusion.

"Then why didn't you _warn me_ he was gay?" Cassie hissed, "You could have prevented me wasting my time!"

"You _knew-_ for a _month-"_ Tim mumbled from beside her, though Jaime's attention was focused specifically on Cassie.

"First of all, it's not my responsibility to go around telling you who's gay and who's not. Second of all, we hadn't even been hanging out recently. I've been spending nearly all of my time with Tim, I didn't know you guys had a thing going on." Jaime explained, "So, where is he?"

Both of them were silent, until Tim broke it.

"Come on Cass, let's go back to my room."

She nodded in agreement and followed him, and Jaime rolled his eyes once again, knowing he wouldn't get an answer, and walked back into his bedroom.

 **5 MINUTES PREVIOUS**

He sneaked quietly back into the house, and luckily for him, there was nobody in the kitchen. He knew he shouldn't be doing this, and parts at him still screamed at him to stop. But he couldn't listen. Not now. It was too late. Swiftly, he grabbed one of the knives, and ran back upstairs, hiding the knife in the sleeve of his hoodie. He could see Jaime pressing his ear against Tim and Dick's door, unaware of his presence. Quickly, he made his way into the bedroom, silently closing the door.

The feeling of sliced open skin came back up to him all too soon. He recalled the first time he had done it, back in the sixth grade, and remembered how painful it was. Then, over the next three years, becoming more and more numb with each cut, no matter how big or small, unsatisfied yet satisfied at the same time as he saw blood come out, slide down his wrist, and hit the floor.

It had been _so long._

Watching the blood spill as he gasped and made another cut, he thought of his father. How he would be beating the shit out of him right now if he were at home if he found out what happened between him and Cassie. He would probably scream at him, whip him with a belt, saying how "un-manly" it was of him to potentially get laid and break a woman's heart.

But he couldn't help it. He _didn't like_ women. He was not attracted to women, no matter how badly he wanted to be. He _wanted_ to be straight. He wanted to be straight _so badly._ He wanted to feel the approval of his parents and carry a beautiful woman to a hotel room after his wedding.

But he couldn't. He just _couldn't._

He heard the bedroom door open, and quickly dove underneath the sheets, stuffing the knife underneath his pillow.

"Oh. There you are. I was wondering where you were." Jaime said as he entered the room.

"Hi." Bart said blandly, turning on his side so he faced the wall.

"I heard about what happened between you and Cassie."

"Did you now?" Bart grumbled, trying to signal to Jaime to go away.

"Yeah. I wanted to say sorry."

Bart was quiet for a few moments, "Why?" he asked, then mumbled, "I want Cassie to say sorry. Not you."

"Because I've ignored you for a while now. And I've been an asshole. And I feel sorry for you, too." Jaime explained.

"So suddenly, when this happens to me, you feel bad and then come crawling back to me for forgiveness, to feel better about yourself. You're _right,_ Jaime. You _are_ an asshole. So... _Fuck. Off."_ Bart hissed.

Jaime's eyes widened, as he didn't expect Bart to be so hostile. "It's not like that." he mumbled.

"Then what _is_ it like?" Bart demanded.

"I- I don't know." Jaime admitted, "But please, just give me one more chance. I want to be friends with you Bart, I really do. You've been a good person this entire time. I just want a chance to start over. _Please?"_ he begged.

"And what if you end up screwing me over?" Bart asked.

"You have every right to never talk to me again." Jaime insisted.

"That's a huge promise." Bart's voice softened.

"I know."

There was some silence before Jaime decided to speak again, "How about tomorrow morning we go clean some horse poop together?"

Bart chuckled somewhat, "Okay. That sounds great. I'm tired though, so I'm gonna sleep early. 'Night, Jaime."

"'Night."


	8. Chapter 8

**WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER:**

 **-homophobia**

 **-profanity**

* * *

 **SATURDAY, OCTOBER 14TH**

"This is how people bond." Bart insisted as he scooped the horse shit into the bag Jaime was holding.

"Definitely. Dios mío, that smells _terrible."_ Jaime gagged.

"Hold it in, hermano. We're almost done." Bart encouraged.

"I don't know if I can." Jaime admitted.

"Wait... here we go." Bart scooped the last piece into the bag, and Jaime tied it up right away, leaving it near the barn entrance for Conner to pick up later and do whatever farm-magic he did with the horse poop.

"Would you look at that." Jaime said as he pointed at Tim and Cassie who seemed to be sucking each other's faces off near the cows they were supposed to be milking, "Back together again."

"Damn, they're really going at it." Bart commented.

"Hey!" Jaime called, and they tore apart, looking at him in horror, as they hadn't suspected people were watching, "Valentine's Day isn't for four more months!"

Tim flipped him the bird before returning to milking the cows with Cassie, and Jaime and Bart burst into laughter.

"Oh my god, that reminds me." Jaime said as they began to leave the barn and go towards the house, "Did I ever tell you about my Valentine's Day horror story?"

"I don't believe so." Bart replied.

"Well, I was a freshman in high school. There was this girl who was really pretty, so I just asked her on a date. She said yes. We went to the movies, and then during the middle of the movie, she tried making out with me. This wouldn't be a problem if we were in the back, but we were smack-dab in the middle. She stuck her tongue down my throat like crazy. I couldn't breathe. I told her to save it for later." Jaime told the story.

"Oh?" asked curiously.

"But wait, there's _more."_ Jaime said, imitating Billy Mays, "After the movie, she said she was really horny and wanted to have sex with me. I was fifteen and she was either fourteen or fifteen, so neither of us could drive. Her friend, who was one year ahead of us, was going to be picking us up. My date said we should have sex in the car."

Bart burst into laughter.

"So I asked her, ' _In the car?!'_ and she said, _'Oh, she won't mind.'_ I straight up said no. She was disappointed and I said maybe in her bedroom because her parents wouldn't be home that night as they were out on a date as well. She said that wasn't adventurous enough for her, and _'The kitchen, maybe.'_ The second I got into that car I told the friend to take me home. Needless to say, we haven't gone on a second date." Jaime concluded.

 _"Oh my god."_ Bart gasped from laughing so much, "That was the best story I've heard all year. For real."

"I don't doubt it. It was quite the experience on my end." Jaime sighed, "That chick was crazy."

"You don't seem to have very good experiences with women." Bart commented.

"No, I guess not." Jaime admitted, and chuckled.

They made their way inside, and sat down to get a drink of water, and to grab something to eat.

"Jaime, after you're done with that, I'm gonna need you to help me. Bart, you can stay." Mr. Kent said as he entered the kitchen. The two teens nodded in acknowledgement, and Jaime quickly finished his task to help Mr. Kent. Bart sat at the table, not knowing what else to do.

Dick walked into the room, obviously high like always, and he grinned.

"Oh, my motherfucker. You broke him. You so broke him." he insisted, sitting down.

"What?" Bart asked, confused.

"Jaime. You found his soft-spot. I heard you guys talking last night. I know what's going on; all this teenage drama. Despite what the stereotypes say, it's not that hard to keep up with." Dick continued.

Bart's eyes narrowed, "So you know I'm-"

"Yeah. And I don't give a fuck." Dick answered, taking a joint out of his pocket and lighting it up.

"Are you smoking weed _in the house?"_ Bart asked in disbelief.

"Yeah. I am." Dick replied blandly, "See, this is the thing. Too many people in this world give too many fucks about too many things. I don't give a fuck about smoking weed in the house. So what? Just like I don't give a fuck if you like dicks in your ass. Or vice versa. See, that's the thing. Why do people give so many fucks about being gay, or whatever? Big fucking deal. _'Oh, my acquaintance likes the same gender in bed! This is nothing that affects me whatsoever but I'll still get my titties in a twist over it!'_ Like seriously, what's the big fuckin' deal?"

"You know, you're surprisingly smart." Bart admitted, "And for somebody who claims to give zero fucks, you say it a lot."

"That's the art of it. You can give so little fucks that so many fucks come out of your mouth. _Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck._ They're unlimited!" Dick laughed.

"Whatever. It was nice talking to you, Dick. I should shower though, I smell like horse shit." Bart explained.

"Ah, okay. See you later, motherfucker."

* * *

Jaime Reyes didn't know where the hell he was. All he could comprehend was the fact that it was loud, there were many explosions, and there was a fireball coming from some sort of demonic dragon straight at him.

 _Wait, what?!_

He screamed as he was pushed out to the side with great force, and saw nothing but a blur. The force was so strong that he tumbled down the side of a cliff that he wasn't aware he was on top of, screaming as he fell. Once he finally reached the ground, the tall grass hid him from the violence above, as well as the branches of an old tree.

Surprisingly enough, he wasn't dead. In fact, nothing really hurt at all.

A groan of pain was heard next to him, and in surprise, he jumped back. A figure raised itself from the grass, and Jaime could only make out some lighter parts of it, but it was definitely human, or something like that. The large tree had blocked his ability to see the rest of the figure. If the figure had stepped into the moonlight, he would be able to make out who it was.

It did just that. It was a young male, Jaime could make out, but not much more other than the fact that he was white as well.

"Who- who are you?" he demanded.

"Blue? Are you okay?" the guy asked.

 _Blue?_

"What?" Jaime asked, clearly confused.

 _Jaime Reyes, you must go back up and fight!_

Jaime screamed in horror.

The guy across him stumbled back somewhat.

"Did you hear that voice in your head, too?"

"Blue, what are you _talking about?"_ the guy demanded.

"The voice! The one telling you to go back up and fight!" Jaime exclaimed in desperation, grabbing his head, as if it would make it go away.

"Are you sure it wasn't Khaji Da?" the guy asked, looking very concerned now.

Khaji Da? Where had he heard that name before? Because it sure sounded familiar.

The guy approached him, placing a hand on his face. Jaime flinched, and his heart raced, not knowing if he should run or not.

 _"Blue. Listen to me_. Are you okay?" he asked again.

Jaime could see the guy close enough now to recognize him.

 _"Bart?"_ he asked in surprise. What was he doing out here? Where were they? Where was the farm and their housemates?

"That's me." Bart chuckled in response, though he touched the emblem of the outfit he was wearing, and it turned yellow and red, "But out here I'm Kid Flash, remember?"

No. Jaime truly didn't remember.

 _"Where are we, Bart? What's going on? Where's the Kents? Where's the farm?"_ he asked in a panic.

Bart raised an eyebrow in confusion, "Listen, Jaime. It sounds like you have amnesia. Luckily, you remember me." he was silent for a few seconds before talking again, "I just contacted Miss Martian. She's gonna come down and help you. Stay put." he quickly kissed him and then smiled, "I'll see you at the Watchtower, okay?"

* * *

Jaime sat up in surprise.

 _What the fuck?!_

He awoke with a start, gasping for air. It wasn't exactly a nightmare he experienced, but it was sure weird as hell. He looked over to his right. Bart was asleep in his bed, not making a noise. Jaime rubbed the back of his neck, not sure how to feel.

That was... a very strange dream.

 _It was just a dream, it doesn't mean anything,_ he told himself. The questions still lingered at the back of his mind, though. Where were they? Why did Bart call him Blue? Why did Bart call himself Kid Flash? Who was Khaji Da? Who was Miss Martian? And most importantly, why did Bart kiss him?

He was too tired to figure it out, though, and fell right back asleep.  
  
 **SUNDAY, OCTOBER 15TH**

"You okay?" Bart asked as he finished up his food, "You barely ate."

"Me? Oh, yeah. I'm fine." Jaime insisted, and chowed down his toast to prove it. Bart raised an eyebrow in confusion, then put his dishes in the sink.

Mrs. Kent was the next to notice, "Jaime, are you okay honey?" she asked, a tint of concern in her voice.

"I'm fine, seriously guys." Jaime continued to insist.

"Well, hurry up. We're mowing the yard today, don't you remember?" Bart asked, waiting for Jaime.

Jaime quickly finished his food and left the house with Bart, still feeling off and awkward. They went to the shed to get the mowers, and Bart could still sense the awkwardness in Jaime's presence.

"Seriously dude, what's wrong?" he demanded, "You've been acting weird all morning and it's starting to bother me."

"It's kind of a personal thing." Jaime replied.

Bart was quiet for a few moments, before saying, "You're making me worried, Blue."

Jaime could feel the color drain from his face, _"What did you just call me?"_ he asked in a small voice.

"Blue. It's a new nickname I came up for you. Like, Blue Beetle. Your character." Bart explained.

The pieces suddenly came together for Jaime. _That's why_ Bart had called him Blue in the dream, and that's who Khaji Da was- the scarab in the armor. But it still didn't make sense. Who was Miss Martian, where were they, and wasn't Bart _Impulse_ in his little universe he created? Not Kid Flash? Who was Kid Flash, even?

"Oh." Jaime responded simply.

"Come on." Bart insisted, "We don't have all day."

* * *

The gravel crunched underneath his feet as he walked through the dirty world where everything was grey. The sky was grey, the ground was grey, hell, the _water_ was grey. Jaime had a sense of aging to him, and he didn't exactly know why.

It was eerily silent, his steps the only sound. A city that was once grand was now crumbled to ashes and dust, as it had been for many, many years. Since the Reach's takeover of the Earth, not much has changed. He continued to walk, when he saw something crawling weakly on the ground, and then a boom of laughter was heard, and Jaime activated his plasma cannon in surprise. He walked towards the source of the noise, and he saw Black Beetle tormenting the Flash's grandson, Bart Allen. The boy was bleeding out, gasping for air and for mercy.

"This is the third time he's managed to break free of his inhibitor collar." Black Beetle growled, "We should rid of him already."

"I agree." the voice came out raspy and old from Jaime, and it didn't feel like him. He didn't even recall saying such.

"Well, what are you waiting for, little brother? Kill the meat." he spat.

Impulse continued to let out small cries, and Jaime noticed that the sleeves of his costume were torn off, and exposed bloody and scarred arms. Blue Beetle began to walk towards him, scythe slithering out of his armor in replacement of the plasma cannon.

 _"Please don't."_ Bart begged weakly, trying to lift up his head, _"Please,_ don't kill me. _I'm only a kid."_ tears began to roll down his face.

"You are a child, but _far_ from innocent." Blue Beetle spat.

 _"Please."_ Bart let out one last plea.

Though he was already gone. Quicker than Jaime could process, the scythe impaled Bart, and his body limped on it.

* * *

 _"Jaime? Jaime! Are you okay?"_ the voice was full of concern and Jaime sat up out of bed.

Through the moon's dim light that filled their room, Jaime could see Bart sitting on his bed, holding his shoulders, trying to calm him down. His eyes were wide and had a look of worry.

Without thinking twice, Jaime grabbed him and wrapped him in his arms, trying not to cry.

"What's wrong? What was the nightmare about? Was it about your dad?" Bart whispered.

"N-no." Jaime said unsteadily, "Please, just don't talk."

Bart nodded, and Jaime held him for about a minute more before letting him go.

"Do you wanna talk about what happened?" Bart asked, still sitting on the bed.

"Maybe tomorrow. I just wanna go back to bed." Jaime mumbled, laying back down.

"Alright." Bart agreed, going back to his own bed, "Goodnight. Remember, I'm always here."

"Right. You're always here." Jaime responded, _"Always."_

 **MONDAY, OCTOBER 16TH**

"Hey, Bart this might sound strange but-" Jaime cut himself off, not knowing how to say it without sounding weird.

"But?" Bart asked, raising an eyebrow, putting his rake away in the shed.

"Can I see your arms?"

Bart stood still for a moment, "Why?" he asked suspiciously.

"Nothing. It's just I never see you without a hoodie or jacket, that's all." Jaime explained, not wanting to admit it really was because of his dream last night.

"Ah... no? Dude, that's just weird." Bart insisted.

"I mean, yeah, I guess. Forget I asked." Jaime told him. Bart nodded, and he closed the shed door.

"So what was that nightmare you had last night?" Bart asked when they started heading back to the house, as if he were reading Jaime's mind.

"Ah... I've been having dreams about you, actually." Jaime admitted.

"Oh? What kind of dreams?" Bart asked curiously.

"Well, the first one was kind of normal. The second one was a nightmare." Jaime explained, "The first one was that I was on top of a cliff. There was this dragon thing, about to spray fire on me, but you pushed me out of the way in time. You had super speed, though. We ended up falling off the side of the cliff, and fell into the ground. You kept asking me if I was okay and called me Blue. Which is why I got sort of freaked out when you called me Blue the next morning. Turns out I was Blue Beetle in the dream."

"Yeah." Bart acknowledged.

"At first I didn't know who you were. When I discovered who you were, I called you by your name. You said 'Out here, I'm Kid Flash' and had this yellow and red uniform on. You then said you'd call this girl named Miss Martian to help me. Then you ran back up the cliff." Jaime explained.

"That's it?" Bart asked.

"Yeah, that's it." Jaime lied. Of course he lied. Adding that "one part" to the story would be strange, and he didn't want to make things awkward.

"So what was the next one?" asked Bart, obviously interested in the subject.

"I was in this post-apocalyptic world, where everything was grey. I was Blue Beetle again. And then you were there, as Impulse. You were bleeding very badly, though. And my partner who was named Black Beetle was torturing you. I don't know why I was evil. He told me to kill you. And... I killed you." Jaime sighed.

Bart was silent for a few moments, not sure how to react. He then laughed, "Oh, Jaime. I'm not scared of you killing me. Well, _not anymore,_ at least." he rubbed the back of his neck.

"Yeah. That's why I hugged you last night. Because I thought I killed you. And I was glad you were alive." Jaime explained.

"Well, it makes sense. I don't blame you." Bart responded, "Well, if you have anymore freaky dreams involving me, then tell me about them. I'd like to hear them. Maybe you could make the most epic comic book series out of them."

Jaime shrugged, "Huh. Never thought of it that way, but okay."

x

"We had a deal." Jaime insisted as he began climbing the tree.

 _"But-"_

"No buts. Come on."

Bart sighed, grabbing onto the branch above him, pulling himself up, following Jaime up the tree, and when they got high enough, he wrapped his arms around the trunk once again like a sloth.

"You're loving it up here, aren't you?" Jaime teased.

"I hate you." Bart muttered.

"I love you, too." Jaime rolled his eyes.

Bart laughed nervously and blushed, though he knew he shouldn't have.

"We won't be able to do this in like, a month, you know that, right?" he asked.

"Yeah. Soon enough it'll be too cold to go outside, which is disappointing, honestly." Jaime sighed.

"So in that dream," Bart switched the subject, "Why did I call myself Kid Flash?"

"I have no idea." Jaime admitted, "And it's strange, because you're Impulse in my little hero universe."

"Is it only just us right now?" Bart asked.

"What do you mean?" Jaime raised an eyebrow.

"Like, are there any characters besides us?" Bart repeated his question with different wording.

"I don't think so. I should probably add more characters." Jaime admitted.

"Who's Miss Martian?" Bart asked, though he knew Jaime didn't know.

Jaime shrugged, "A female Martian, apparently."

"Your fantasy." Bart teased.

"Pfft, no." Jaime laughed.

Bart laughed along with him.

* * *

"So how do I look?" he asked, flexing his small muscles in the mirror that hung in his room.

"Great." Jaime responded.

Bart sighed, "Be honest, Jaime." he turned to face him, extending his arms out to show him.

"Okay, I'm not used to seeing you in it, but you do look good. Fits you nicely." Jaime repeated, but Bart still didn't believe him. He sighed, going over to the nightstand in the room.

"Jaime," he sighed, picking up the photo frame that sat on top on the night stand, "I'll never be _him."_

"It's what Wally wanted." Jaime reassured, looking at the photo on the nightstand. It was the only photo Wally and Bart managed to get together, the two cousin goofballs sitting on the couch at the Allens' house, silly smiles on their faces.

"I know, but..." Bart sighed, taking the red goggles off his forehead, looking at them, "I don't know if I'll ever meet the expectations he would have put on me."

"Bullshit." Jaime insisted, taking the photo and putting it back on the nightstand, "You were faster than him when he was alive, anyways. If anything, you'll outdo him."

"It's _so much more_ than speed, dude." Bart mumbled, "You'll never understand. You're not a Flash."

"I don't have to understand to know you'll do fine." Jaime insisted, "Come on. How about we go out to eat or something, to get your mind off of it."

"I really don't feel like going anywhere." Bart admitted, "Can we just stay here? Jay and Joan aren't home, so it's not like anyone's going to bother us."

"Okay." Jaime nodded, lying down on Bart's bed, picking up the remote that was also sitting on the nightstand, turning on Bart's T.V. and flipping the channels. It landed on basketball before Bart cuddled in next to him.

"I'm cold." he chuckled.

"Well, yeah. You're not wearing anything but your smiley-face boxers." Jaime observed, "Where'd the costume go?"

"I put it away."

Jaime continued to observe him, and noticed bright pink lines across Bart's arms, which stuck out like sore thumbs against his pale skin. There were a few other white lines as well, those ones being the more well-healed among the dozens that were on him.

"Didn't even notice." Jaime finally responded.

"You're great, you know that, right?" Bart asked.

"I believe so." Jaime agreed, though he was preoccupied by the basketball game.

"Come on, dude. Enough with the game. I need attention, too." Bart insisted, taking the remote, and shutting the T.V. off.

"The Miami Heat were just about to win." Jaime whined.

"They _always_ won in this era." Bart replied.

"True, true." Jaime agreed.

The comm that was resting on top of Bart's dresser went off.

 _"Nightwing to Kid Flash. We're gonna need you at the Watchtower. It's not an emergency, exactly, but it's sure important."_

Bart got up and sped over to his comm, activating it to speak in it, "Can I bring Blue?"

 _"Sure, I don't care. Just get here."_

They got to the Watchtower, the Zeta Tubes recognizing them, a man in a black costume with a blue bird in the center approached them.

"We've finally got Wally's hologram set up." he explained.

Blue didn't know why, but he felt like he recognized Nightwing from somewhere else. He knew the former Robin's real identity, which was Richard Grayson, the adopted son of Bruce Wayne, otherwise known as Dick Grayson, but the strange feeling of knowing him wouldn't go away.

"Blue, you okay?" the man asked, and Jaime nodded, looking to his right, where Bart had been, but he was gone.

Jaime went to the room where tall holograms of deceased heroes stood. There was Bart looking at his predecessor, though Jaime took the time to notice exactly how many dead people there were. There was Tula, Aqualad's former love interest, killed a few years back from rocks. There was Jason Todd, who was Robin after Dick, killed by the Joker. Ted Kord, who was killed by the Light trying to protect the scarab that had now latched itself to Jaime's back. And now there was the just-added hologram, Wally West; the man who was absorbed by the chrysalis.

He approached Bart, who wouldn't tear his eyes off the hologram. He wrapped an arm reassuringly around him, hoping to comfort him in some sort of way.

"You'll do great."

Bart didn't respond at first, he just looked down.

"Will I?"

"You will."

The words were short and simple, but enough to make Bart grin.

"I believe in you, cariño." he said, giving him a quick kiss, to make sure none of the others spotted. Yet again, there were cameras all over the place, so it was probably too late. But Jaime really didn't care. It wouldn't be that big of a deal if the rest of the Team and The Justice League found out about them, right?

 _Nope, not at all._

* * *

 **TUESDAY, OCTOBER 17TH**

Jaime awoke in the morning, as he could tell from the streaks of sunlight pouring in through the window. He felt a warm, fuzzy feeling in his chest. That wasn't a bad dream, was it? Though it still bothered him. Not the end of it, but how come he suddenly knew what was going on in that dream and didn't know what was going on in the first dream?

Wait, why wasn't he bothered with what happened near the end of it?

 _Doesn't matter, doesn't matter, doesn't matter._ He raced the thought in his head. So what if he was gay in a dream? It was a dream. Dreams didn't mean _anything._

He walked into the bathroom, looking into the mirror. He wanted to walk through the dream again, to exactly see what happened.

He was with Bart in the beginning, and Bart said he'd never be like Wally, he was in a yellow and red costume. Wally, Jaime assumed, was the former Kid Flash. He'd have to ask Bart later if he had a relative named Wally. He noticed the bright pink scars on Bart's arms. Then they went to this place called the Watchtower after cuddling. There was also "The Justice League", and "the Team", whatever "the Team" was. And he talked to Nightwing, whose real name was Richard Grayson.

 _Holy shit._

Nightwing was Dick? How the hell? Dick was just some pothead, not a muscular superhero, by any means. And he was _never_ sober. He was the adopted son of what's his face... Bruce Wayne? Jaime never knew a Bruce Wayne. He made note to ask Dick about Bruce Wayne as well.

Jaime tried to ignore that last part, which freaked him out especially. _He_ had been the one to initiate it, not Bart. And he had called him _cariño_ on top of that.

Well, at least he'd have a Kid Flash explanation.

Jaime nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard banging on the door.

"Are you done in there?" Conner's voice came from the other side, obviously tired and crabby.

"Yeah. Sorry." Jaime apologized, exiting the bathroom, and heading back to his bedroom to change into actual clothes. He was just about to walk in when he looked at Bart, who was still sleeping, and bit his lip in uncertainty.

He knew he shouldn't let his dreams dictate his view on Bart. To Jaime, that was no better than hating somebody due to their star sign. Bart was a friend, who _just happened to be gay._ He has never flirted with Jaime, he has never checked Jaime out (at least to his knowledge), so why was Jaime having such strange dreams and feeling strange around him?

And what was up with Bart's arms?

"Oh, and breakfast's ready." Conner called from the bathroom before he closed the door. Jaime nodded, though he knew Conner didn't see it. He went downstairs, deciding he should let Bart rest.

x

"Uh, Bart." he decided to bring up the topic as they cleaned Dot's hooves.

"Hmm?" Bart asked.

"If you ever need to tell me anything... then that's okay." Jaime forced it out.

"What?" Bart asked, confused.

"Like... personal stuff..." Jaime trailed off.

"I mean, yeah, I guess so." Bart shrugged, "What's up? Have you had another dream, by the way?"

"Do you have a relative named Wally?" Jaime asked out of the blue.

"Uh, yeah." Bart nodded.

"Ginger hair? Green eyes?" Jaime continued.

"Yep."

"Well, apparently he was Kid Flash before you." Jaime explained, "And he died. So you had to take on his role."

"I can reassure you that Wally is alive." Bart laughed.

Jaime began to explain the rest to him, leaving out the intimate bits of the story.

"So Dick is some superhero bad ass in your dreams? Awesome." Bart commented, and then put down the last hoof, "He's all good." he pat the horse before beginning to leave, ready to do the next task.

x

"Yeah, don't you remember? Me and Tim's foster dad was Bruce Wayne." Dick said.

Jaime didn't want to admit, but he honestly forgot. Tim didn't really have a close relationship with his foster dad, and they hardly went to Tim's place when hanging out. The few times they did, his dad would usually stay reserved in his own little world. Now that he thought about it, Jaime _had_ called Bruce "Mr. Wayne" a few times before, but that was quite a few years ago by now, and he never knew Wayne's first name.

"Dude, those are some super cool dreams you're having there." Dick commented, snapping Jaime out of his trail of thoughts. It took Jaime a few seconds to respond.

"I guess so. I just don't know why they keep repeating." he nodded, then stood up, "Well, I'm gonna go somewhere else. I need fresh air, you've pretty much stunk up this entire kitchen with weed."

"Ha. Okay, bye, Jaime."

Jaime nodded before leaving, not honestly knowing where he was walking. He decided to stop in front of a small pond that was near the woods, the fall leaves floating around in it. He looked down, catching his breath, happily taking in the fresh air that the outdoors provided. The days were only getting colder and colder, and soon enough, he noticed, he would turn eighteen. Today was the seventeenth, he remembered, after he asked Mrs. Kent. By next Tuesday, his birthday would come around.

Damn. _Eighteen._

He couldn't believe he was almost a legal adult already. He still felt like a fifth-grade boy next to his father's bedside, begging him not to die.

He also had to accept how long he's been here; about a month and a half by now, probably.

 _How long could they keep hiding for?_

He didn't like thinking about it. He liked to think that he could stay at the Kent farm forever and ever, to never be disturbed, to never be caught by police and thrown in jail. But he knew that wasn't possible. He couldn't stay at the farm forever. He knew he needed to start coming up with a plan, because it'd only be so long before they found out he was there along with his friends.

He looked into the dirty pond water, the small ripples in it skewing his reflection. He looked back and forth, his eyes trailing across a few yellow and red leaves here and there, and he gasped as he noticed somebody else's face in the pond as well. He fell backwards, trying to skid away. Nothing happened.

Shit, he was going crazy.

Curiously, he began to go back to the pond, and looked in the water. The face wasn't there. It was just his imagination- it wasn't real.

He then looked back up, screaming once again as he saw somebody sitting at the other end of the small pond.

 _"Who the fuck are you?"_

"Jaime," the man laughed, and he looked up at him. He seemed to be wearing clean white robes, and he was holding a fancy fishing pole, in which the bobber was gently floating in the water, "You need to accept yourself already."

 _"What are you talking about? Who are you?"_ Jaime repeated.

The man continued to laugh, "Oh, quit your stressing, son."

Jaime's concerned face dropped, and he observed the man in the robes for a few moments, "I'm going crazy." he confirmed.

"No, you're not. Jaime," the man continued to chuckle, "you worry too much."

"I'm going crazy." Jaime repeated, "You died a long time ago."

"I did." his father nodded, "Yes, I sure did."

"Just a hallucination." Jaime told himself, squeezing his eyes shut, and then he opened them, hoping for his supposed-to-be-deceased father gone. But he was still there, still fishing as well.

"What do you _want?"_ he hissed.

"I want you to accept yourself." his father responded, "I've had to communicate with you somehow. Apparently, your dreams aren't signs enough. I thought we connected in that way, after all, you did create Blue Beetle for me. So I had to come down here to talk to you myself."

"I'm leaving." Jaime said, "This is too weird for me, and I have no idea what the hell you're talking about. And you're not real. You're my imagination."

"Am I, now?" his father asked, putting his fishing pole on the ground before suddenly disappearing.

 _"Wait!"_ Jaime cried, but it was too late. Still, he desperately looked around for his dad.

He then noticed what was on the ground; the pole. He picked it up. It felt like any other fishing pole. There had to be a rational explanation for this. Maybe it was there before and it was left forgotten. It was probably one of the Kent's. He began to walk back to the house, wasting no time.

"Mr. Kent, I hate to bother you but-" he said as he entered the house to Mr. Kent, who was relaxing and reading a book on a rocking chair, "-is this your's?" he handed the fishing pole to him.

The elderly man inspected the fish pole, "I believe not. Where'd you find this?" he asked.

"By a little pond." Jaime explained.

"Here, it says right there." Mr. Kent pointed to the bottom of the pole, "Property of AReyes. Do you know an AReyes?"

"N-no." Jaime stuttered. Mr. Kent seemed clueless. He didn't know whether or not the man knew his last name, but he was sure freaked out. He took the pole back, bringing it up to his room, and continued to inspect it. It clearly said AReyes on the pole. Now that he inspected it closer, he realized it didn't say AReyes at all. It said A. Reyes, but the dot was extremely small.

He shivered.

 _Alberto Reyes._

Not wanting to bother with it any longer, he let it lean on the wall, and got into bed. The sun was only just starting to set, but Jaime knew he needed sleep.

And lots of it.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Posting this a day early because I'm very sick and I don't think I'll want to get out of bed to do it tomorrow. lol. Otherwise, take this as a treat from me.**

 **WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER:**

 **-self-harm**

 **-homophobia**

 **-violent attacks**

* * *

 **WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 18TH**

When Bart started again on Friday, he hadn't stopped. He didn't know how to stop and when to stop, but he knew he should stop. He wanted to stop, didn't he? He didn't even know if he wanted to stop. It was like a drug, and he's overdosed, but he just couldn't get enough. He washed his arms off in the sink, wrapping toilet paper around them to catch the remaining blood. Once his arms seemed to cease bleeding, he looked at the cuts, tracing his fingers across each one, for each had their own story.

His eyes traveled upwards and he saw the first cut, near the top of his left arm's wrist, so high it was almost on his hand. It was nothing but a small white bump now, and it would take a lot of focus to notice it.

* * *

He knew his feelings weren't normal when on that fall day, it was one of the first few days of gym class. He was a little sixth grade boy, not even twelve years old yet. He was changing in the locker room, and next to him was an eighth grader who had gym class at the same time. He was a handsome guy who had an early birthday like Bart, and was nearly fourteen. He already hit puberty, unlike many of the other boys in that locker room, and it showed with his well-defined muscles for his age, deep voice, peach fuzz, and height that made him seem like a giant among the others. Bart remembered looking at him change discreetly, and finding him attractive. He didn't know what the feelings were at the time, but he didn't like them.

Not even a month later, him and his group of friends were at the park, talking about the hot high school girls they "totally made out with", and asked Bart about his story involving a high school girl. Bart said he didn't have a crush and wasn't really interested in girls.

"Pfft, what are you, gay?" one friend named Lucas asked.

Bart didn't know what gay meant, exactly. He knew it was an insult, but at the time, his undeveloped barely-twelve-year-old mind was too innocent to connect the fact that it meant being a homosexual, and being a homosexual was seen as a bad thing.

"Gay?" he asked, confused, "No..."

"Then why don't you find girls hot?" the other friend named Ben asked.

"I never said I don't find girls hot." Bart insisted, his squeaky pubescent voice loud and clear.

"Well, I hope you're not gay." the first friend responded, "Because then it'd be weird. Guys are supposed to like girls, and girls are supposed to like guys. It's just how it works."

"I'm not gay." Bart insisted.

"Good." the friend responded simply.

But Bart couldn't help run the question through his mind; _Am I gay?_ He never really thought about girls that much. He didn't really want a girlfriend. He didn't really imagine himself getting married to a woman, or getting married at all. And guys were pretty cool, sometimes they could be pretty good-looking, and he could perhaps see himself with one.

He thought about possibly being gay for a long time. Longer than he'd like to admit it to anyone; for about a year. At the start of seventh grade, he finally accepted it. He _was_ gay.

He knew it was wrong. Being gay was a bad thing. "Gay" was an insult. Often, he'd hear boys call each other faggots when one was acting weak or feminine. When same-sex marriage was legalized in all fifty states, he remembered his father ranting about how it was "against the point of marriage to let two fags and two dykes marry".

He'd convinced himself that "gay" was a bad thing. He was a boy who liked boys, and that wasn't good. Bart was supposed to like girls. He was supposed to feel lustful and sexual attraction towards women.

So one day, he took a steak knife, and slit his wrist, to try and punish himself for being gay. He thought if he punished himself enough, the "gay thoughts" would go away. He'd somehow magically turn straight. He'd train himself not to think sexual thoughts towards guys.

But they wouldn't stop. And Bart would slit his wrists every time he thought that way. Before he knew it, his arms were covered in scars.

And then there were more.

And more.

 _And more._

* * *

 _"Bart?"_

The voice scared Bart so much that he screamed in response.

 _"Are you okay in there, hermano? You've been in there for a while."_

"Fine. You just scared me." Bart responded quickly, pulling his sleeves up and opening the door.

"Mrs. Kent wants us to help with lunch." Jaime responded.

"Does she?" Bart asked. Jaime nodded.

"Ah, okay. I guess I'll just go downstairs then..." Bart trailed off. He had stuck the knife he stole underneath his pillow before entering the bathroom. Had Jaime discovered it? He sure hoped not. Even then, Jaime had asked him about his arms a few days ago. Did he already know? If he did, why hadn't he confronted him about it?

They helped Mrs. Kent with the lunch, not talking much in-between. Bart really didn't know why, but he enjoyed the silence that came along with it. Really, the only words spoken were the commands out of Mrs. Kent's mouth.

After lunch was finished and then served, Bart went to feed the piglets he had been taking care of for who knows how long now, all eleven fat and plump. He picked up Porky, who was starting to get heavy, and went off to the hayloft again. Porky relaxed in his lap, and Kitty came around to visit them.

He suddenly craved for the days when he was friends with Cassie again, doing stupid things together and laughing the days away. His friendship with Cassie was only a month long, but it felt like forever. He craved even further back, way back when he was a little kid, sexuality never crossing his mind once. He would spend his days with his friends, playing around, being innocent and oblivious to the big bad world.

He tried to relax himself, but he couldn't. Would it ever get any better from here on out? Where would he go after the farm? Would he ever see his family again? Did he ever want to see his family again? He didn't know.

He stroked Kitty's soft orange fur, feeling the soft vibrations of his purrs as he did. Porky was well asleep on his lap, too.

If there was one thing he worried about, it was whether or not the Kents were homophobic. He didn't think they'd catch him "in the act" (Who would he even "act" with?), but rather somebody telling them. He preferred it when Jaime was the only one who knew, because he didn't really give a fuck about it. Same with Dick, but he only found out because Tim and Cassie did "get their titties in a twist", as he would put it. So basically, everyone knew except the Kents, Roy, and Jade, but Jade didn't really count because she was leaving tomorrow.

Bart liked Jade, now that he thought about it. They didn't talk too much, but she was down to Earth and logical. She probably wouldn't care if he was gay. She could probably slap some sense into Tim and Cassie as well.

Oh, well. Too late. She was leaving.

He stayed up in the loft for a few more minutes before deciding to leave, putting Porky back with his litter, and Kitty gave him a goodbye-lick before he exited the barn. He returned back to the house, hoping Mr. Kent wouldn't assign him to anything, because he really just wasn't in the mood today.

Luckily, the kitchen seemed to be empty, with the exception of Roy sipping some coffee, though he paid no attention to Bart. Bart traveled up the stairs, back to his room, wondering if he should go for a second round. Though when he opened the door, he walked in on Jaime sitting on his bed, propping himself against the wall, drawing.

"What's up?" Jaime asked, not making eye contact, still focused on his drawing.

"Drawing?" Bart asked, though it was obvious.

"Yep. I'm drawing Nightwing." Jaime explained, "Wanna see?"

"Sure." Bart replied, walking over to him, and Jaime handed him the sketchbook, and Bart looked at it, obviously impressed.

"Wow, he actually looks kind of hot as a superhero." Bart commented, then stopped himself, _"I mean-"_

Jaime just laughed, _"Oh, hermano._ Thank you. I do try to make my characters look attractive."

Bart laughed nervously back, and he didn't know why. Jaime had known he was gay for a long time now, and he didn't seem bothered by it. "Don't tell Dick I said that." he requested as he handed the sketchbook back.

"I won't." Jaime promised, and chuckled more somewhat, then switched the subject. "I'm gonna draw you in that Kid Flash costume later, to give you an accurate visual."

"I wish I had dreams like you. Mine are just random. Like I'll walk into a store, and the next thing I know I'm an alpaca." Bart joked.

"Sounds interesting to me." Jaime responded.

There was some silence before Bart said, "I'm gonna go." Jaime nodded simply, and Bart left the room.

 _What now?_

 **THURSDAY, OCTOBER 19TH**

It was a dreamless sleep, which was quite strange. But of course, Jaime always woke up earlier than his own good. He yawned, stretching his arms, not understanding the empty feeling that filled him this morning. Sure, he didn't dream the previous night, but he couldn't help but feel sad, or like he was missing something.

Then it dawned upon him.

Was he missing his intimacy with Bart in the dreams?

But that didn't make any sense- he _wasn't_ gay. There should be no reason as to why he was getting that feeling.

Shaking himself, he looked over to the wall where he had first set the fishing pole. It had been there all day yesterday, but today, it was gone. He quickly scrambled out of bed and went towards the wall, looking for it. The only thing left there was a pink sticky note, and Jaime grabbed it to read.

 _Barn_

 _What?_ Jaime thought, figuring it was some sort of note the Kents have left and it ended up in his room somehow.

Still, his curiosity was too much, and he slowly made his way down the steps, trying his best not to wake anyone up. He made his way into the barn, the creak of the doors opening louder than he expected, and he cringed. All of the animals in the farm were asleep, which was surprising. It was early in the morning, but not so early to the point where the stars were still out. No, it was slightly sunny, the weak streaks of sunlight that poured through the barn's cracks and holes gave it a cozy glow. He looked around for the being that he assumed to be his dad, but there was nothing.

He was wasting his time, and he knew that.

Sighing, he walked forward, still searching. He then gasped as he felt something stab his back- not a violent stab, it was actually very, very mild. He searched for the source of the stab, eventually pulling a hook out of his shirt. There was string attached, that seemed to come from above. His eyes followed the string, eventually landing on the missing fishing pole, which lead to his father's figure in a white robe. He smiled, and the warmness of his smile seemed to match the streaks of the sun that flooded the barn. Now that Jaime looked at him, he wasn't a full figure. He had a transparent tint to him, that made him ghostly and slightly creepy. Despite the hospitality that his father's expression showed, he couldn't help but shiver in fear, and the adrenaline rush flooded him. He was never actually expecting to _see_ his dad- or the imagined figure of him, Jaime assumed.

Because he didn't believe in ghosts, or angels, or whatever. He was an atheist, and had been for who knows how long. He just found the whole concept surrounding these kinds of things silly.

 _This isn't normal. This isn't real. This is my imagination,_ he thought.

He blinked, but the figure didn't disappear.

"Yes?" he asked, his tone commanding and annoyed.

"Come on up." his father replied. The response was much more friendly than Jaime's initial question, and he didn't expect it.

Slowly, with some hesitance, he made his way up the ladder that lead to the loft. He got to the top, where his father continued fishing for nothing in the air. He couldn't help but receive memories from his childhood, when he went to see Dreamworks movies with his family, when the boy on the moon would cast his hook out into the air and move the clouds in the way before the logo appeared.

He smiled at the thought, somewhat. It had been so long since he'd seen a screen, much less a Dreamworks movie.

His father didn't turn around, and began to hum a melody. Jaime knew it from somewhere, but couldn't make it out. He listened to his dad, the soft hums relaxing him during the process. It then clicked.

"Is that the opening music from _'How To Train Your Dragon'_?" he asked.

"Yes, it is." he responded simply, still not turning or looking at Jaime.

"That's funny. I was just thinking about Dreamworks movies." Jaime commented.

"Why do you think I was humming?" the father laughed, casting out another hook.

Jaime's relaxed state suddenly became alarmed, "How did you know I was thinking about that?" he demanded.

"Jaime." the man laughed simply, "You don't relax enough. I'm not exactly an ordinary man anymore."

Then, the reality of things hit him. He was sitting here, in the hayloft of a barn out in the country, early in the morning, talking to his deceased father.

"Why did you want me to come here?" he asked.

"Son, it hurts me when you refuse to accept yourself. You must have the concept backwards... usually, it takes accepting yourself before being able to accept others. You are a strange young man." his father sighed, reeling in his hook, looking disappointed, as if he actually expected to find a fish on it.

"I'm not gonna lie; I'm extremely confused." Jaime confessed.

His father laughed, _"Yes,_ Jaime. _That_ you are."

There was a few moments of silence before Jaime decided to speak again, but he was suddenly cut off by the loud noise of an explosion, flames soaring themselves into the air at the same time. Jaime was blown off the hayloft, making a rough fall to the ground, hitting his head. He groaned in pain, his ears ringing. He tried to stand up, but was too dizzy and disoriented to understand what was going on. He looked to where his dad was, but he was nowhere in sight. The only thing that remained was the burning wooden fishing pole. Flames spread throughout the barn, and the animals broke out of their pens and stalls in a panic and ran out. Jaime was almost able to hear the pounding of the mighty horse hooves beside him as they cried in fear.

Jaime was still too dizzy, though, and beginning to lose oxygen from the fire. He realized that this might be it. This may be the day he dies, from an unexplained explosion. Perhaps he'd join his dad; perhaps it wouldn't be so bad.

He shut his eyes, feeling as if though attempting escape would make his death more painful.

He'd lived a good life. It was full enough.

Right?

His hearing suddenly came to, and he was overwhelmed by the roaring of flames that seared nearby. He felt his body be lifted, and wondered if he was transitioning to some sort of afterlife. After a few seconds, though, he realized somebody was picking him up. He didn't check who it was. He didn't want to open his eyes.

 _"Blue! Blue! Can you hear me? Are you okay?"_ the voice was deep and urgent, and Jaime had heard it plenty times before, but he couldn't tell who it was.

 _"Blue! Jaime! Oh god, we're losing him! What do we do?!"_

Jaime let a small annoyed noise out of his mouth as he felt him being flipped onto this stomach.

"Stupid scarab, _activate!"_

This voice, he could recognize from a mile away.

He felt his back being pressed on, and gasped as an unexpected sensation came over his body. He sat up suddenly, spinning around.

"Dude! What is wrong with Khaji? Shouldn't have it activated the armor by itself?" the owner of the voice was Bart. He was in a clean cream-colored and red uniform, with goggles to match. His green eyes were a strange mixture of concern and relief. Jaime's own eyes were in a different direction, though. He spotted Conner, though he was wearing a black t-shirt with a giant red "s" surrounded by a diamond on it. He never noticed Conner wearing something like that before.

"Conner?" he asked strangely.

Conner sighed with relief, and he almost laughed. Any chance of a laugh escaping him was soon cut off, however. There was a loud scream heard, and a figure flew across the sky, only to take a tough landing in the woods nearby. An evil chuckle was heard behind them, and Jaime turned around, his jaw dropped and eyes wide behind the orange lenses that his armor provided.

Black Beetle slowly approached the group, continuing to laugh. As if in key, lightning flashed across the sky, followed by the harsh crack of thunder.

Conner wasn't having any of his games, and charged at him with a battle cry nearly as loud as the thunder. He was quickly hit with a plasma blast from Black Beetle, and was sent flying back. Bart had to push Jaime to the side to avoid being hit by another plasma blast. He looked back.

 _"Superboy!"_ he cried in horror, and stood shivering when Black Beetle got closer.

"What do we do?" he asked Jaime in a panic. He was fast, most definitely, but his speed proved futile when it came to Black Beetle's size and ability to breath without oxygen.

Black Beetle was suddenly thrown off balance, however, as parts of him seemed to blow up themselves. A young man in a red and black uniform with a cape and domino mask came running past, sending more of his fancy gadgets into the Beetle's armor. In anger, the Beetle attempted to swipe at him with one of his giant arms, but the guy tucked underneath it. Now that Jaime got a closer look, the man appeared to be Tim.

"Blue, Impulse, what are you guys _doing?"_ the voice was commanding and quick, and Jaime nearly jumped out of his skin as he heard the whistle of an arrow soar past him. He turned around, to see Roy in a form-fitting red and black uniform holding a bow and arrow, sending multiple arrows at the Beetle all while Tim fought him.

"Don't just stand around! _Fight!"_

Impulse was gone faster than Jaime could process, helping Tim place more tiny bombs on the Beetle. Though, Black Beetle hit Tim, which sent him backwards in a haze.

Two shadows from up above startled Jaime, and he looked up. He saw a girl who appeared to be Cassie holding Conner, then she dropped him, letting out another war cry as he landed on top of Black Beetle, stomping him into the ground. The Beetle yelled in rage, and Conner landed a punch square in his face. Though that was the only thing he was able to get in before he was flung away once again. Cassie managed to get a few punches in herself, having flight on her side, but it wasn't long before he caught her and flung her away like Superboy. Impulse was the only one left locked in battle with the Beetle, but it was more of a game of not getting hit by now.

He watched with horror as Black Beetle's eyes glowed a bright orange, then Bart was shot out of his speed-circle and sent flying into a tree, and was knocked unconscious as he was stapled to it.

The lightning and the thunder would not stop, and Black Beetle continued to laugh, shooting a plasma cannon at Roy, who screamed before being knocked out. Jaime watched in horror, not knowing what to do. He knew he was supposed to fight, but how was he going to fight? There was no way he was standing a chance against this guy.

"You are not of these heroes, Jaime Reyes." the voice came out.

Jaime didn't know how to respond.

"We shall end this battle on a peaceful note, if you are willing. Come with me, and I will not kill you or your friends."

"No..." Jaime mumbled, "I can't."

Black Beetle seemed to raise an eyebrow behind his armor, "Jaime Reyes, _you are not of these heroes."_ he repeated, much more annoyed this time around.

"Yes, I _am!"_ Jaime's voice was more certain and confident than he really was. A plasma cannon formed in his arm, and he shot at Black Beetle, who was thrown off by the blast.

He growled in response, charging at Jaime. Jaime took off into the air, but Black Beetle soon followed, colliding with him, throwing him off. He was able to regain his balance before hitting the ground, however, and aimed another blast at the Beetle, who cried in pain. But it wasn't enough to stop him. He pushed Jaime into the ground, the wind getting knocked out of him as it happened.

"You fight it well, little brother." the Beetle admitted, "Though, not well enough."

Jaime was able to escape his grasp and stand up, turning around, ready to continue fighting.

Though, the atmosphere changed. The roar of the flames and thunder were no longer there, instead, replaced with a dead silence. The fire and lightning were not visible, but instead, the sky was grey, the ground was grey, hell, the _water_ was grey.

 _Wait a second,_ Jaime recognized, _I recognize this place._

Black Beetle was next to him, though he was far from ready to fight Jaime. He was looking down on the ground, to Bart's mangled and bloody body, and he was begging to be let go.

"This is the third time he's managed to break free of his inhibitor collar." Black Beetle growled, "We should rid of him already."

Blue Beetle was silent before a few seconds before firmly saying, "No."

Black Beetle seemed surprised more than anything else, his red eyes like daggers when they stared into Jaime's in response.

"What are you _talking_ about?" he demanded.

Jaime ignored him however, bending down on one knee, and he picked up Bart's limp body. The teen was too exhausted and weak to try and fight or run away. Jaime couldn't help but feel sorry for the kid. He was only thirteen or fourteen, born twenty-six years after the Reach claimed the Earth- far too late to experience a childhood or teen-hood like Jaime did. The pre-Reach memories were faint, but they were enough. They were enough to try and save Bart from a horrible death.

"We'll get you help. It'll be okay." Jaime reassured.

Black Beetle looked in horror, not expecting such to come out of Jaime. The expression of horror soon turned to anger, however, and he practically knocked Bart out of Jaime's arms, taking the scythe from his armor, and impaling the teen with it himself.

 _"No!"_ Jaime screamed in terror, and Bart let out a few gasps before going silent completely.

"You somehow got off-mode." Black Beetle muttered, grabbing Jaime suddenly by the head, "It's time to take care of you, too."

Jaime felt his head quickly move to the right before everything was black.

* * *

And he woke up suddenly in his bed, heart racing, covered from head to toe in sweat. The noise of the loud thunder outside was almost enough to override the noise of his thumping heart that beat in his ears. He looked out to Bart's bed, and he nearly screamed when he realized his roommate wasn't there. He soon realized though, that Bart was tucked close to him. He didn't know why nor care why Bart was in his bed, he was just glad he was there and not dead. He lay back down, trying to relax. He pulled Bart in closer, not knowing how much closer he could get considering the bed was only meant for one person. Bart's head seemed to perfectly fit on his chest, and Jaime rested his chin on top of it.

He knew what he was doing wasn't really appropriate; it wasn't something most friends do. It wouldn't be considered platonic, exactly. But his care about that seemed to have flown out the window, because Bart was Bart was alive and safe, and that's all that mattered.

Nothing else in the world did.

x

When Jaime woke up for real in the morning, Bart was gone, and he almost felt disappointed. Wondering where he was, he looked around, though he was nowhere to be seen. He'd have to ask why Bart was in his bed last night; it's not like he just _couldn't._

One thing, he noted, though, was that the fishing pole was where he left it.

He made his way downstairs, and Mrs. Kent scolded him somewhat for waking up so late; Jaime hadn't even realized what time it was. He ate what was left of the breakfast, and asked her where Bart was. Apparently, talking outside with Tim. This immediately struck Jaime as strange, because Tim and Bart weren't exactly friends. He walked out onto the front porch, where they were swinging on the bench, talking about sports- more specifically, cross country.

"Oh, hey Jaime!" Bart's voice was unusually cheery and he smiled.

"Hi." Jaime responded, his voice much more bland. Bart almost frowned at his reaction.

"What's up?" Tim asked from the distance.

"Can I borrow him for a second?" he asked.

"Sure."

Bart bit his lip, a confused and concerned expression making its way across his face.

"Why are you talking to Tim?" was the first question to come out of Jaime's mouth when he dragged Bart into a place a bit more private.

"I dunno, actually." Bart admitted, "He just came up and talked to me this morning. Personally, I think Dick talked some sense into him, but I'm ultimately not sure."

Jaime hesitated asking the next question. Should he even ask? Should he just leave things where they were? They seemed fine where they where.

But he had a right to know.

"Why were you in my bed last night?"

Jaime could see Bart's face turn red in embarrassment, "Well, to start things off, you woke me up. You were having a nightmare." and Jaime noted from the tone of Bart's voice that it was a statement- not a question.

"You kept muttering things like, _'Yes, I am'_. You seemed pretty angry, or scared, I don't know. So I was getting ready for you to wake up and talk about it. You never did, and I ended up falling asleep next to you. I didn't even realize until this morning. Sorry. It won't happen again."

The explanation seemed fair enough to Jaime, as he was specifically yelling "Yes, I am" in his dream the previous night. And he was having a nightmare.

"Oh, I'm not mad at you." Jaime replied quickly, a bit too quickly, he noticed.

"You're not?"

"...No."

There was some silence and the awkwardness followed soon after. Luckily for Jaime, Tim approached, asking what was taking so long.

x

They spent their time the rest of the day together, the trio getting work done a lot quicker than usual. By sunset, they were all finishing up dinner before deciding to head up to Jaime and Bart's room. Jaime pulled out his sketchbook, and began to draw.

"I saw you in a dream, Tim." he began, and Tim looked up at him curiously.

Jaime explained the entire thing, where he had dreams of him and his friends being in some sort of crazy alternate universe where they were all superheroes. Bart tuned in on the last part, where Jaime described being out on the farm with his housemates and battling Black Beetle together.

Tim just listened in interest, amazed at Jaime's strange dreams' stories.

"Ultimately, you looked like this." Jaime finished, handing the sketchbook to him. A good hour and a half had passed by now, giving Jaime enough time to make his drawing decent. "I don't know your hero name, but for some reason the word ' _Robin'_ keeps coming back to me. So I'm pretty sure it's Robin."

Tim nodded, "I look good." then stood up, "Well, it's starting to get late. I should be going to bed. See you guys tomorrow."

"Bye, Tim." Bart said blandly, and Tim nodded before leaving, the door shutting squeakily as he did.

"You look bothered." Jaime commented as Bart began to prepare his bed to sleep in.

"Why do you always have dreams where you're killing me?" he asked, glaring at Jaime.

Jaime shrugged, "I wouldn't think of it too much. They're just dreams. I'll never kill you, Bart."

Bart had to stop himself from laughing.

"Okay. 'Night."

"As usual, 'night to you as well."

* * *

"I didn't mean it."

"You did _nothing."_

"I'm sorry, Nightwing." Jaime continued to apologize.

"Apologizing won't rescue them." Nightwing scolded, "You just stood there, and did _nothing_ most of the time! What's going on?"

"I _don't know."_ Jaime admitted, "I don't know what's wrong with me."

"Was there _any_ instinct even telling you to fight? Anything in your heart?" Nightwing asked, folding his arms.

"There was. But I was scared." Blue Beetle continued to admit, "I didn't know what to do."

Nightwing sighed. Sure, the Beetle was a rookie, but it wasn't acceptable for him to just stand around and not act while Black Beetle attacked his teammates. He looked at him, his eyes narrowing behind his mask.

"Maybe you should listen to your heart is telling you more often, Jaime."

* * *

 **FRIDAY, OCTOBER 20TH**

* * *

 **OCTOBER 2016**

Freezing.

That's how Bart had felt on that chilly day in October last year, running for the sake of track practice. He continued to push himself to his limits, though. He knew he should endure as many weather types thrown at him. It was his last year of middle school, and in high school, things would be a lot tougher, and more competitive. He made it his goal to finally bring home the gold trophy from State this year, as he had come so close in his previous years. Sixth grade; bronze. Seventh grade; silver. Eighth grade; gold? Hopefully.

"Hey, you!"

The voice startled Bart, and his daydream about the golden trophy suddenly froze as well as his moving legs. He looked around for the owner, but he couldn't see anything. The owner then seemed to come out of nowhere. Bart was pretty freaked out by his entrance. He knew who the guy was, though. Johnathon Cooke, better known as J.C. among his peers. He had light skin, with bright brown eyes and slick black hair, a white and wide smile on his face to top it all off. He was on Bart's school track team in the past, but was in high school now, as he was one grade ahead of Bart.

"Oh, I know you. J.C., right?" Bart asked.

"Yep, that's me! Dude, I haven't seen you in _forever!"_ J.C. cheered.

This immediately struck Bart as odd, because he ran past J.C.'s house almost everyday. And J.C. was acting very friendly; they knew each other, but they were never friends.

He should have took off running right then.

But he didn't.

"How's high school?" he asked instead.

"Oh, dude, it's great. Cross country team here is awesome. Can't wait to have you on it." J.C. responded.

Bart suddenly thought to the future, and where he'd be one year from now. He liked to think that high school would be better. And suddenly, running alongside J.C. didn't seem like such a foreign thing after all. Maybe they could become good friends.

"Well, it was nice talking to you, J.C. I should get going though. If you want to run with me tomorrow, I can do that." Bart offered.

J.C. let out a grin almost too large, as if he expecting the offer.

"Totally. Meet me here tomorrow at four-thirty?"

"Will do."

"Have a nice night."

"You too."

* * *

Bart snapped out of his trail of thought as he heard Jaime approaching him.

"I need help picking up horse poop again."

Bart chuckled, "Okay, fine, but Tim's not here to help you?"

"He's spending time with Cassie."

"Ah, I see. Whatever. Let's go." Bart stood up, and began to walk with Jaime, crossing his arms to try and protect himself from the cold late-October air.

"You seemed to be daydreaming back there." Jaime commented.

"I was. I was thinking about something that happened a year ago." Bart replied.

"Oh? What was it?" Jaime asked curiously.

"I don't like talking about it." Bart admitted.

"That's fine." Jaime responded soon after, but Bart could see the tint of concern in his eyes. They eventually got to the barn and began to work, the smelly task making Bart forget about the unwanted memory.

He spent the rest of his day with Jaime, glad he never brought up the topic of the memory. Tim and Cassie joined them near sunset, and things were somewhat awkward between Cassie and Bart. Though, by the end of the night, when they stood around the campfire, when Roy passing around cans of beer for everyone to sit back and relax, he began to talk to Cassie again. And things seemed to return to normal. They talked about Kitty, what they used to do when they still lived in town, and a crazy elementary school teacher the both of them had as kids.

Bart had never been this happy in a long time. He got along and was friends with everyone at the farm, any sign of past drama seemed to be put behind. He smiled as Conner told his story about him and his older brother Clark riding horses for the first time when he was five.

Life was suddenly so great.

 _So why do I keep doing this to myself?_ he thought.

He didn't know.

It was his drug, and he was addicted. He _couldn't_ stop. He _wanted_ to stop. He knew he should stop before he gets caught.

The memory he had earlier in the day suddenly came flying back to him, and his happy mood suddenly disappeared.

* * *

They ran together, only talking when they took water breaks. Occasionally, they would race to a fire hydrant or lamppost. Bart noted that J.C. was pretty fast as well, and he barely won the races he had against him. J.C. would always push him to go faster.

After about a week of running together, J.C. proposed that Bart hang out at his house. Bart agreed, not knowing a reason why not to, told his parents where he would be, and J.C. tossed him a water bottle from the fridge only a few moments after they entered the house. Bart took a swig at his, and J.C. tore off his shirt suddenly. Bart choked on his water, and began violently coughing. J.C. watched in confusion, letting Bart cough it out.

"You okay?"

"Y-yeah." Bart stammered, "You're muscly, dude."

"Thanks. Ladies love the muscles." J.C. smirked and laughed somewhat, "You want a spare shirt? You must be covered in sweat."

"No thanks." Bart responded quickly.

"Okay. Stay here." J.C. responded, running upstairs.

Bart wanted to slap himself.

He couldn't let J.C. know he was gay. Not at all. That wouldn't end well.

J.C. returned with a changed shirt, and they watched some T.V., played video games, made a pizza, and other random things before Bart noticed he should be getting home.

"See you." he said simply as he made his way out of the door.

"You, too."

* * *

"Bart, come on. It's time to go to bed." Jaime's voice seemingly came out of nowhere.

"Is it?" Bart asked. How long had he been daydreaming for?

Jaime held out his hand in offer to help him up. Bart grabbed it, letting himself up, still slightly dazed from being pulled out of his dream so quickly. He walked inside, before he knew it, he was slipping into his bed, and falling asleep.

* * *

The school hallways were bright and busy, and Bart quickly made his way to his locker to pack up his stuff and go home. He exited the building, the spring sunshine immediately warming him up from the cold, air-conditioned school. In a few weeks he'd be done with middle school, and wouldn't be able to walk home anymore, as the high school was too far away from his house. It kind of disappointed him, as he liked taking in the beautiful nature when he made his way back. He definitely preferred to a crowded and stuffy school bus.

About halfway to his house, he heard a voice call out to him. Except the word that came out of the person's mouth definitely wasn't Bart's name.

 _"Fag!"_

It startled Bart so much that he halted in his tracks. He looked over to see two other boys in his grade he knew; Lucas and Ben. They used to be Bart's friends, but they decided he wasn't "cool enough" to hang out with them during the middle of seventh grade. Things had been tense between them ever since. The two boys laughed, holding energy drinks in their hands, leaning against Ben's fence.

"What do you want?" Bart grumbled, annoyed, confronting them.

"Whoa! Hold back!" Lucas commanded, throwing his hands up in the air, "Don't get too close. We don't want AIDS, man."

Ben snickered, and high-fived his friend.

 _"What do you want?"_ the words were much more angry than Bart had intended.

"Uh-oh. We're making the faggot mad." Ben snickered again, then got serious, "Listen, Bart. We're not fairies around here. We don't accept people like you. Gay guys are nothing but hyper-feminine disease spreaders. We don't need that shit in Keystone."

"Why do you _care?"_ Bart grumbled, though he didn't want to put up with this any longer, and began to walk away.

"Because in this town, it's our job," Lucas said, forming his right hand into a fist and punching it into his left hand, "to fix guys _\- like you-_ up."

Bart's eyes widened and he began to run. Though, despite him being a fast runner, his legs felt like cement bricks. He cried out in pain as the two boys caught up to him and kicked him to the ground. He felt his skin get cut open from the hard concrete sidewalk. Lucas tore off his backpack and held him down while Ben grabbed his hair, yanking up his head, and punched him repeatedly. Lucas took one of Bart's ankles and twisted it, and he cried out in pain.

Nobody came to help.

He was then kicked in almost every area of his body, until he was left lying on the ground. They opened his backpack and took all of the money inside. Tears of frustration and pain rolled down his face as the boys walked away. Bart could see his blood beginning to stain the sidewalk.

Nobody would help.

Nobody cared.

* * *

That's when Jaime tore him out of his sleep.


	10. Chapter 10

**WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER:**

 **-homophobia**

 **-attempted suicide (flashback)**

* * *

"Are you okay?" were the first words to come out of Jaime's mouth.

No. Bart wasn't okay.

He cried somewhat, and tried to stop himself because he realized how embarrassing it was. But the tears kept flowing, and Jaime wrapped his arms around him to try and reassure him.

"Shh, it's okay, it was just a dream."

 _Just a dream,_ Bart tried to tell himself. Though it wasn't as convincing compared to Jaime's verbal reassurance.

"Say it again." he begged.

Jaime was confused at first before catching on, "It was just a nightmare."

Bart nodded, and Jaime let him go, looking at him, still concerned.

"What was it?" he asked.

"I feel like the entire world is against me." Bart mumbled.

"What do you mean?"

"The dream... I was being jumped... for being gay." Bart responded slowly, "Fuck. The entire world hates me."

"That's bullshit, Bart." Jaime insisted, "For every person who hates you, there's like, twenty people who support you. Me being one of them. I'm always here."

"But Tim and Cassie-"

"Please, they're not so much homophobic as they are uneducated. They're starting to come around." Jaime assured.

Bart nodded, "Okay. Okay. Right."

Jaime smiled, "And you're safe here at the farm. Nobody's gonna hurt you here. Just remember that."

"You're right, Blue." Bart repeated, "Thanks. Goodnight."

Jaime was silent for a few moments. He wasn't exactly used to Bart calling him 'Blue' just yet. "'Night." Jaime he, making his way back to his bed.

 _Man, it's kind of sad,_ Bart thought, _when a former drug dealer is more accepting of your sexual orientation than your peers.  
_

 **SATURDAY, OCTOBER 21ST**

Jaime needed to splash water on his face that next morning.

That was _not_ okay.

For a moment, he denied himself having such a dream. But there was enough evidence in his pants the next morning.

Doesn't mean _anything._

Nothing at all.

He felt sick and twisted. He shouldn't be having wet dreams about his roommate.

Because goddammit, he was _not gay._

 _Not gay, not gay, not gay, not gay..._

Even if he was gay, the dream still wasn't okay. He was to be eighteen in three days, and Bart was fifteen. Having sexual thoughts or desires about Bart would make Jaime in all legal and political stances...

God, he didn't even want to _think_ about it.

...a pedophile.

Which was absolute bullshit. Jaime was definitely _not_ attracted to children. Even then, Bart had been going through puberty for _at least_ two years as well, Jaime figured.

In the eyes of nature, Bart was practically a fully developed man.

In the eyes of the law though, he was still a minor, and a child.

Jaime took one good, long look in the mirror. Despite getting plenty of rest the previous night, he was tired as hell. He saw a tall figure standing behind him, and gasped, too scared to turn around. It only took a second for him to realize it was Black Beetle. The Beetle wasn't very happy, and Jaime nearly jumped out of his own skin when he talked.

 _"Little brother, you are not-"_

The sudden harsh knock cut him off, and Jaime nearly jumped out of his skin a second time. The reflection of Black Beetle was gone.

"Hurry up Jaime, I have to shower!" Roy commanded from the other side. Jaime nodded, opening the door.

But he wasn't going to let Roy in just yet.

"Did you hear another voice in here?" he asked suddenly.

Roy gave him a confused look, raising an eyebrow, "No?" he asked, then lightly shoved Jaime aside to make his way in. In defeat, Jaime walked out of the bathroom, not knowing what to do next.

"Hey!"

Cue the third time Jaime nearly jumped out of his skin that morning.

"Bart!" he cheered nervously, facing the other teen.

"I wanted to ask if you could help me polish the horse stuff this morning, the uh, seat and mouth things." Bart replied.

"The saddle and reigns?" Jaime asked.

"Yeah! Those. Wanna help?" Bart asked, and put on a charming smile.

"N-no." Jaime stammered.

"Huh?" Bart asked, confused.

"I mean- I'm just feeling kind of sick today. Can you have Tim help you or something?" Jaime suggested.

"I mean, I guess." Bart admitted, "But I like you more."

Jaime felt stupid for the blush that formed on his cheeks. He hoped it wasn't too obvious. "Just ask him." he muttered, quickly spinning around to go back to their room.

"Oh, okay. Feel better then, man." Bart responded before leaving himself.

Jaime plopped himself onto his bed, feeling guilty and dirty still. He just needed time away from Bart. Then the strange and inappropriate feelings would go away.

But he couldn't be further from wrong.

 **SATURDAY, OCTOBER 28TH**

As the week progressed, it worsened. After the second dream for the second night in a row, Jaime tried to avoid Bart as much as possible.

It was a lot harder than he initially thought.

Especially on his birthday on the twenty-fourth, Bart was practically glued to him the entire day.

After one week, he just gave up. He decided to just ignore it as best as possible. Neither he nor Bart were having nightmares anymore, which left the nights peaceful and quiet.

It was a very rainy day, and the thunder wouldn't shut up. Not knowing what to do, Bart proposed they go back up into the attic again.

Jaime wasn't sure if this was such a great idea. It had been a month since they last went up into it, and the last time they did, Jaime got blood all over his face.

Though eventually, he agreed to it. They were smart enough to bring flashlights this time around, and the muffled thunder plus the rain bouncing off the roof gave the attic an even creepier ambiance than it already had. Bart's flashlight eventually landed on a television, looking to be from around the 90's or early 2000's, with a stack of old VHS tapes next to it.

"Dude, look." Bart pointed out, and Jaime turned his head.

"Ha. I remember those." he said, walking up to it along with Bart, who began to inspect the movies.

"Was your mom ever afraid of one of these things falling on you? Because mine was." Bart said.

"Oh yeah. Definitely." Jaime nodded, then grinned, "Come on. Let's take it downstairs."

"Why?" Bart asked suddenly.

"I'm in a spontaneous mood. Besides, I'm sure it only takes a few plugs to use it. On top of that, we have a whole bunch of movies here." Jaime explained, "So, are you in?"

Bart shrugged, setting down his flashlight, picking the T.V. up with Jaime. Even with their combined strength, it was pretty heavy. Carrying it down the steps proved another challenge. Eventually though, they found a place to put it near an outlet, and went back up to fetch their flashlights, grab a few more cords, a remote, and the movies.

After working with that for a few minutes, Bart attempted to turn on the T.V. with the remote, but the batteries died many years ago. Jaime found a button on the side of the T.V., and it roared to life, letting out a high-pitched ring and loud static noise as well as the fuzzy black and white snow.

The image of the active screen was pretty foreign to the both of them. It had been nearly two months since either of them had seen a screen, and they had forgotten how harshly bright screens were.

"Whoa." Bart said, putting his fingers on the screen, "Wow..."

"Sometimes I forget what day it is here." Jaime brought up seemingly out of the blue.

"What?" Bart asked, clearly confused by the statement.

"Like, think about it. Back at home we always had screens to show us the time, the day, the month, the year... these days, we don't have any of that. And this just reminds me of that." Jaime explained.

"Well, this won't tell us what day it is. And I'm pretty sure it's the twenty-seventh. Or twenty-eighth. I'm not sure entirely." Bart admitted, then switched the subject, "Come on, put in a movie."

Jaime nodded, going through the stack of movies. One that caught his eye right away was _The Rugrats Movie_ , something he used to watch as a kid. He slid the orange VHS in the compartment that took the tapes, and the movie began.

And everything was just great.

But only for a day.

 **TUESDAY, OCTOBER 31ST**

It started off innocently enough. They were just two guys sitting on a floor, watching a movie that was a based off a cartoon they both watched during childhood.

But as the days passed, the rain only worsened. It would pour and pour, and Jaime and Bart would be left with nothing else to do except watch movies. There were a surprising amount, and all were children's movies. Some they could recognize right away, like _Pete's Dragon_ or _Air Bud._ Others were pretty strange, though.

And it almost got kind of old as well. Sure, revisiting childhood was great, but it was only so great before it got boring. The movies they were watching were intended for children ten years younger than them.

And with each movie they slid in that VHS compartment, the more Bart felt comfortable being close to Jaime. By Halloween, he was sitting on his lap, and Jaime watched the movie over his shoulder.

 _Not platonic, not platonic, not platonic,_ the words rang in Jaime's ears. But the more he thought of it, the more he thought of the words, _Don't care, don't care, don't care._

A soft knocking was heard at their door, and Bart made his way off of Jaime's lap quicker than he could process, and Jaime paused the movie. Conner made his way in, seemingly in a better mood than usual.

"Come on downstairs." he commanded, though it wasn't a harsh command.

"Why?" Bart asked, "Something wrong?"

Conner shook his head, "No. We're going to carve pumpkins. It's Halloween after all."

"It is?" Jaime asked. Sometimes he didn't realize how much time passed.

 _God, we've been here for almost two months._

Conner nodded, and the other teens followed him down the stairs, where there were newspapers scattered all over the dining room.

"-and Dick, don't make your pumpkin into a bong, please." Mr. Kent said.

"Aw man. That's not cool." Dick mumbled.

Mr. Kent rolled his eyes, then spotted Bart and Jaime, "Oh, there you guys are. It seems like you two never leave that room. That T.V. entertaining?"

"How did you know we had-" Jaime started, though Mr. Kent cut him off.

"Please, that thing's so huge, it's pretty impossible not to see it when your door is open."

Jaime and Bart laughed along, glad that Mr. Kent wasn't mad. They sat down and Mrs. Kent slid some pumpkins to them, and a few steak knives.

"Wait, so you guys have a T.V.?" Tim asked, stopping in the middle of his cutting.

"Yeah." they replied in unison.

"How?" Tim asked.

"We found it in the attic. It's nothing fancy. It's probably as old as us, if not older." Bart explained, "It plays VHS movies."

"Oh, cool." Cassie commented, "Maybe we can watch some movies with you guys."

Jaime didn't know why that made him so uncomfortable. It was kind of something special between him and Bart, and getting other people involved in the mix, even if they were friends, seemed strange.

"Maybe." he eventually ended up saying.

They continued carving their pumpkins, making small talk along the way. Eventually they finished, showing off their finished products. Cassie had a pumpkin that looked extremely pissed off, Tim's was a stereotypical happy face pumpkin, Dick carved a marijuana leaf into his, Roy's was a scared-face pumpkin, Bart had another stereotypical happy face pumpkin, Jaime's was a bat, and Conner did surprisingly well, carving a ghost. They put the jack-o-lanterns in front of the fireplace in the family room, and Mr. Kent placed tea candles in each one, lighting them up, and they all watched as they flickered, really setting the feeling of Halloween in the house.

"They look great." Mrs. Kent smiled and laughed, "Especially your's, Dick." as she pulled a book out of the bookshelf, sitting back on her rocking chair.

"And kids, it's supposed to stop raining tomorrow. So get ready to get back to work." Mr. Kent warned. The others nodded in acknowledgement, and left to do their own thing.

Bart and Jaime went back upstairs to continue their movie, Bart happily making his way onto Jaime's lap once again. Jaime continued to think to himself as the movie progressed.

He couldn't be gay, right? There was no way he was gay. He never thought himself of potentially being gay before being with Bart. And Bart being gay himself didn't make Jaime gay. He didn't "catch the gay". It was okay for Bart to be gay, because he knew for a long time. But Jaime? No way. Jaime was eighteen. If he was gay, he definitely would have figured it out by now. It just didn't make sense. Jaime never looked himself in the mirror in the past and think, "Look at me... I'm gay."

Did it even work like that?

See, that's the thing- _he didn't know how the whole thing even worked! There was no way he was gay. Nope, not at all._

 _But the dreams-_

 _-don't mean a thing,_ he thought.

He was an eighteen year old boy who has been far away from girls for a while, so of course he would think that way. It was kind of like prison- minus the disgusting cells and rape. When there aren't any girls around, what do you think would happen?

Of course, there was always Cassie, who was pretty and strong and down to Earth- and he totally didn't take the opportunity to have her when he had it for some reason.

 _Because you're a raging homosexual,_ a little voice teased in his head.

"I am _not!"_

The voice startled Bart so much he fell off of Jaime's lap.

"Yo... Blue. You okay?" he asked as he leaned towards the side of the T.V. to pause the movie. Jaime seemed to have a complex look smeared on his face, and he was obviously thinking deeply about something.

"Sorry. I just- I don't know. Continue the movie. I'm just stressed." Jaime stuttered.

Bart looked concerned, and hesitantly pressed play, about to climb back in Jaime's lap, but Jaime pushed him off, letting out a small "No."

Bart seemed disappointed, though he shrugged it off. If Jaime was upset, he wasn't going to make things worse. Everybody had their bad days.

About forty minutes later, the movie wrapped up. It was kind of discouraging to grab another VHS, because children's movies were almost always short, and soon enough, they'd run out of their supply.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Bart's voice was soft and sincere, but it scared Jaime so much he nearly screamed.

"What? N-no." he continued to stammer. Dammit, English may not be his first language, but he shouldn't be having trouble speaking it this much.

Bart raised an eyebrow, "I mean, something's obviously bothering you. And I'm not the guy to judge. You should know that by now."

"I know you aren't. It's not you I'm worried about." Jaime responded, but by now, he couldn't tell whether or not he was speaking the truth.

"No?" Bart asked curiously, facing him, "Come on, talk to me." the voice was much more persistent than Jaime liked.

"I have some sort of inner demon to fight." Jaime stood up, and began to leave.

"Where are you going?" the now distant voice of Bart called.

"The bathroom."

"For what? Are you gonna kill it with the plunger?"

Jaime hated himself for laughing.

But he couldn't help it.

x

The image in the mirror didn't seem to reflect him. He sighed, closing his eyes, leaning against the sink.

 _"Why do you retaliate against me?"_ the voice behind him asked in a neutral tone, _"You used to accept us without question. Now ever since that Bart Allen has caused influence in your life, you fight."_

"I won't fight you anymore." Jaime responded, and he could basically feel Black Beetle grin behind him.

 _"That's a good boy. I've had quite enough of you trying to convince yourself you're something you're not."_ Black Beetle said, _"It's time for you to return to the Reach."_

Jaime turned around to finally and get a look at the Beetle, but he was gone.

He knew what was happening; auditory hallucinations. That was the most logical answer he could think of at the top of his head. Still, the short conversation was meaningful.

And he knew exactly what Black Beetle was.

Though, he didn't want to admit it.

 **FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 3RD**

He'd been lashing, nearly in tears, screaming, and even punched in a wall.

All over the course of three days.

"Are you okay?" Bart would always ask, though Jaime would just snarl at him.

There was something seriously with him. Jaime wasn't mentally stable at all, and Bart was starting to become scared of Jaime. Not of Jaime hurting him; he'd never do that. No, he was afraid of Jaime hurting himself. He was scared Jaime would end up breaking down like he did a few years ago.

He didn't want that happening to him, too.

He just didn't know what the hell was wrong with him.

"Are you okay?" he repeated, and Jaime replied with a snarl, but added a harsh _"Leave me alone"_ as well.

So he cut. Not because Jaime hurt his feelings, but just hoping that maybe inflicting the pain upon himself would spare Jaime the pain.

It was irrational, but Bart wanted to do anything he could to help him. He cared about him so much. Jaime was the only one who was there for him nearly this entire time. He was there for Jaime, too. They had some sort of bond Bart couldn't describe. It was the strangest friendship Bart had ever involved himself in, but he didn't care how strange it seemed to others, because he loved Jaime, and that's all that mattered.

Bart's knife clattered to the floor, some of the blood droplets spilling along with it.

His eyes widened, and his breath shortened. He gulped, but his mouth was dry, and he could feel all of the color from his face disappear.

 _What had he just thought?_

 _No._

 _No._

 _This can't be happening._

 _No._

 _No..._

Sure, he thought Jaime was hot, no doubt. Any gay guy or straight girl who didn't think that way was absolutely crazy. But _loving_ him? No way! That just wasn't right. He couldn't be in love with a fucking drug dealer who threatened to kill him not even two months ago. People didn't fall in love that fast. Besides, Jaime was straight and just kind of... out of it.

He quickly picked up the knife, hiding it under the pillow, cleaning his fresh wounds with a wet towel before shoving that under as well. It was barely evening, but he didn't want to stay up any longer. He needed some sleep to clear his head. He lay there for about fifteen minutes, but was unable to fall asleep. He was much too wide awake. He sat up, looking out the window, trying to allow its pretty view to relax him.

But whatever he tried, failed.

 _Just accept it. Fighting it won't help anybody._

He let out a large breath,closing his eyes, then inhaled and opened them.

He had to give himself the benefit of the doubt. He and Jaime have been seeking each other for comfort nearly all of the time. And even though only two months have passed, he had to remind himself he was pretty much spending the entirety of the day with him. Which basically is equivalent to 1,464 hours. That's a lot of hours.

 _Dammit Bart, now's not the time to be doing math._

He repeated his method of closing his eyes while exhaling and opening them while inhaling once more.

"I'm gonna help you however I can, Jaime," he mumbled to himself quietly, "because goddammit, I love you."

* * *

"You will _always_ lose against me." Black Beetle laughed as Blue Beetle tried to push himself off of the ground, heavily breathing, the only noises besides Black's voice were the shrill and sharp short breaths and his pumping heart.

"No." Blue mumbled, "Can't let you win."

Black Beetle just laughed, and swiped Jaime to the side as if he weighed less than nothing. He cried out, crashing into the side of the wall, unable to recover.

He admitted to defeat.

"I surrender." he said weakly, looking up at Black, who was smiling like a maniac.

"Good."

And as he entered the Reach ship, he couldn't help but know it.  
 _  
There may be the scarab on my back,_ he thought, _but that doesn't mean this is me._

He could escape.

He knew.

And suddenly, he regretted surrendering.

* * *

 **DECEMBER 2016**

J.C. and Bart would hang out everyday.

J.C. was Bart's best friend.

But it was sure a surprise when J.C. grabbed Bart's head and kissed him.

He couldn't react.

 _"Why'd you do that?"_ he asked, though he wasn't upset.

J.C. apologized. Bart had told him there was no need.

 _"I'm actually gay,"_ he explained, _"and I like you like that, too."_

If Bart could take his words and swallow them back down, he would.

But it was too late.

It was far, far, too late.

x

"A hundred bucks. _Now."_ J.C. demanded.

 _"How could you do this to me?!"_ Bart screamed, _"What did I do to deserve this?"_

"Give me that fucking money or the whole town is going to know you're a faggot." J.C. smirked, "Including, I don't know... your dad?"

Bart's heart sank into his chest.

If only he could just snatch J.C.'s phone out of his hand, but J.C. was bigger and stronger and taller and he'd probably lose a fight with him. It would never cross his mind that J.C. would be recording the whole thing.

Because he trusted him.

And he fucking betrayed him.

Still, there was no guarantee even if Bart gave him the money that J.C. still wouldn't release the video.

"Tomorrow." he promised, "I'll give you the money tomorrow."

"Great. Now get out of my house." J.C. commanded. Bart nodded, giving J.C. one last painful look before leaving through the back door. He just hoped J.C. would have a change of heart.

But that was unlikely.

J.C. sent the video to his friends, along with the text.

 **So it's true... guys gay lol. Got the whole vid. Make sure to edit the part where i'm kissing him though. just the part where he admits it.**

Within a few minutes, he got a text message back.

 ** **Meet us at the basketball court.  
****

 **Cool. Be there in a second.**

J.C. made his way to the court, and his friends Ben and Lucas stood there, satisfied smiles on their faces.

"Nice job, man." Ben said as he high-fived him.

"So is he giving us the money?" Lucas asked.

"Yeah. By tomorrow." J.C. nodded.

"Great. Now where's your share?" Ben asked.

"What? We already got his money." J.C. responded, confused.

"Nope. Your money." Lucas insisted, "A hundred bucks from you, too."

"What the fuck is this?" J.C. commanded.

"Bro, give us the fucking money or else we're releasing the unedited version. And everyone'll think you're a faggot as well." Lucas demanded.

"No!" J.C. responded, "That's not cool- _what?!_ You fucking assholes!"

"Tick-tock." Ben responded, "Both you and your boyfriend need to give us a hundred bucks each. Or else it's bye-bye reputation. And friends. And hello getting the shit beaten out of you everyday."

"But I'm _not_ gay!" J.C. cried.

Ben and Lucas just smirked.

"Fine, okay. I'll give you the money tomorrow." J.C. admitted in defeat, and walked away. In a panic, he texted Bart.

 **Bart**  
 **I'm sorry.**  
 **Please forgive me.**  
 **Stop ignoring me. Dude it's an emergency.**

 **Fuck you.**

 **Dude they're blackmailing me too. If I don't give them money too they'll release the vid**  
 **We'll both get caught up in shit**

 **YOU DUMB ASS**  
 **ARE YOU SERIOUS?**

 **I'M SORRY**

 **FUCK YOU.**

 **BART PLEASE**  
 **I DON'T HAVE A HUNDRED BUCKS!**  
 **I need you!**  
 **You know by now my family is poor.**

 **I hate you.**  
 **I'm not giving you the money.**  
 **How do I know this is not another trick pulled by your friends to get more money out of me**

 **I guess you dont**  
 **but you have to trust me**  
 **please**

 **Ugh**  
 **Okay**  
 **I'll give you it**

 **THANK YOU OH MY GOD**

 **only if you clean my entire house though.**

 **...are you fucking serious?**

 **hell yeah**

 **my mom's been trying to get me to do it for weeks**

 **and that thing better be spotless**

 **fucking hell**

 **fine**

That night, having no choice, J.C. did just that. Eventually he finished cleaning the house though, by the next morning. Whenever Bart's parents asked him what he was doing, he said it was a surprise.

They arrived to Ben and Lucas, giving them the two-hundred dollars that afternoon.

Bart hoped and prayed to whatever god may be out there that Ben and Lucas don't decide to release the video anyways, because it would pretty much prove the end of both of their social lives and reputations.

Luckily, they dropped it, and the controversy disappeared.

But still, Bart felt like an idiot, and was severely disappointed in himself.

He cut himself a line so deep he was on the borderline of bleeding out to death. He wasn't sure if it was on purpose or accident, but he honestly didn't care, though. He sat there, on the floor, hiding the knife away. He waited for mother nature to take her course on him.

It was kind of peaceful, really. Watching his blood spill out of his arm and dye the bathroom rug beneath him red, and he began to feel dizzy and sparks swam in his vision.

 _I won't make it to see the new year,_ he thought in the back of his head, _how sad._

He imagined his gravestone, how it'd be put with his first name, the first initial of his middle name, and last name. Then underneath it would be something stereotypical like, "BELOVED SON AND FRIEND". His birth-date and death-date sit underneath that.

 _And it'd be all new and shiny._

Who would _really care_ if Bart was dead, anyways? All of the Bible verses claimed he was condemned to Hell when he died. Might as well make the trip early. Bart personally didn't believe in God or Satan or whatever, but if they were real, then that is what death would be like.

Or there would be the calm nothingness instead.

Which, really, is all he wanted.

x

When Bart first woke up, it occurred to him that he shouldn't have woke up. He looked around, feeling pain in his left arm up and down. He nearly fell off the bed in surprise as his mother Meloni got up from her chair and started crying.

"Oh, Bart, _you're alive!"_ she grabbed his hand and held it gently, but firmly.

"Why?" Bart asked.

Meloni gave her son a concerned look, and Bart suddenly realized what he just asked.

"No, honey." she scolded softly, "You should be alive. One hundred percent alive."

"But I was bleeding and dying." Bart mumbled, tossing his head to the side and he sighed. He wasn't in the mood to talk.

"Don saw your blood underneath the door. He kicked it down and saw you. We dialed an ambulance and we found out if he had discovered you a mere two minutes later, well," her eyes watered, "you'd be gone."

 _Why couldn't have Dad waited those two minutes?_

"Wow." Bart replied simply.

"Now honey, please tell me how you ended up bleeding." Meloni begged.

Bart's face went pale.

 _Shit. How was he going to explain to her?_

"Mom, I've just... it's been a long day and I nearly died. Can I please tell the story later?"

She nodded, "I understand. I can go if you want."

"Please do." he responded, "I need some time to... catch my breath."

She nodded once again, kissing him on the forehead before leaving.

He had to think of an excuse before she came back.

But he was already asleep.

x

By now, Bart had no idea what day it was. It all seemed to be mushed together in one blur, and the hospital room door squeaked open, only for him to see his dad enter.

"Oh, good. You're awake now." he said, grabbing one of the chairs in the room and pulling it towards Bart's bed, sitting backwards on it, looking at his son with concern.

"I found a knife in the sink cabinet."

Bart froze, and he knew he was done for. He didn't dare look his father in the eyes.

"Bart, did you try to kill yourself?" his father asked, his voice so hurt that Bart could barely hold back his tears.

"N-no," he mumbled, trying not to break down, "Not on purpose." He was lying. Or he wasn't lying. He honestly didn't know anymore.

"Then why was there a bloody knife?" from years of experience of being a cop, his voice was commanding but calm.

And it scared the hell out of Bart.

"I-I-" Bart stuttered, but couldn't even think of a sentence. He began to cry, super embarrassed that he was bawling in front of his dad. But he couldn't help it.

"How many _fucking secrets_ have you been keeping from me, son?" Don's question was much more impatient and angry than his previous one.

"Dad, I- _please."_ he begged, continuing to cry, and loudly, and let out a yelp as his dad grabbed his good arm, and inspected it.

 _"Why have you been doing this to yourself?!"_

 _"I can't tell you."_ Bart mumbled.

His father looked ready to slap him, he was so infuriated, "We're gonna send you away to get you help, you hear that?"

Bart didn't care.

Anything to get away from his father.

x

The hospital was somewhat strict, but Bart liked it much better than home. No, the food wasn't that great, and people could be hostile, but overall, as long as his dad wasn't there to yell at him, he was happy. Though he would constantly look at that goddamn scar left on his arm. It was huge, and didn't heal like the others did. It was so red for such a long time, Bart thought it had reopened and started bleeding again every time his eyes fell on it.

The stay lasted around three weeks. Bart didn't make any friends during the time duration. He was very reserved, and he was glad nobody there was from his school to go back and tell the tale that Bart Allen was at the loony bin.

He made up an excuse; he'd just go back and say he was visiting his dying grandpa, Thaddeus. The man was actually quite alive, but he was so old and cranky, he might as well be dead.

Bart missed Christmas, but was back before New Year's. He got plenty of Christmas presents to unwrap once he arrived back home, as well as an obnoxious amount of "Get Well Soon, God Loves You and We Love You" type of cards. In the days before New Year's arrival, his parents would constantly check his arms to make sure he didn't cut more.

On New Year's Eve, he was far too excited for midnight. It'd be _the_ New Year, and Bart would get a shot to have a good year. 2016 hadn't gone too well for him, and perhaps 2017 would bring better times.

Though, in the back of his mind, he knew that a New Year wouldn't change a thing. His parents would still check to make sure he hadn't been cutting, his father would still give him that strange glare whenever he passed by him.

Nothing would change. It'd just be the same shit. He'd go through the rest of eighth grade feeling like shit, he'd go through the summer feeling like shit, and start high school feeling like shit. He'd come home each day and perhaps cut. He had been going for his thighs recently since his parents always checked his arms. Then when 2018 came around, he'd repeat the process. All the way until he graduated high school- _if_ he graduated.

And as the very last seconds of 2016 passed, he wished for something to change in the upcoming year. He wanted something special, that would give him a sense of joy, something that would make him want to live and be as positive as possible.

But what were the chances of getting that special something?

 _Happy New Year._

* * *

 **SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 4TH**

Bart traced his finger across the large scar that sat on his left arm. Nearly a year later, it still hasn't healed completely.

It never would.

Jaime entered, and he quickly brought his sleeve over his arm, smiling as if he were doing nothing wrong.

"Are you feeling better today?" he asked.

"Yeah. I guess." Jaime nodded, grabbing his sketchbook from his nightstand, and beginning to leave.

"Okay. See ya." Bart said, and Jaime nodded again in acknowledgement before exiting the room.

Bart was almost disappointed that Jaime hadn't come to see him.

Didn't matter, though. Bart really wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone but himself.  
  


x

Jaime was never really a fan of the holidays, but they already began, and Halloween passed by a few days ago. Soon enough, it'd be Thanksgiving, then Christmas.

As a child, they were pretty much the highlight of his year. Ever since his dad's death, however, they were nothing but an emotional toll.

He grew up too fast.

Being so high up in the air plus the mix of the cold early-November air made him shiver, and he began to draw in his sketchbook. He really didn't have any idea what he planned on drawing, but just went with whatever was on his hand's mind right now.

 _Oh, boy._

 _What was I thinking?_ , he asked himself. He drew him and Bart, except it was in his superhero-alternate-reality-dream-place. It was a night sky, and for some reason, in a desert. He was in his Blue Beetle armor, in which all except the headpiece was covering his body, and it reflected off the moonlight. He was suspended in the air, wings open to maintain the hover. He was holding Bart in his arms securely and affectionately. The guy was in his Impulse costume instead of the alternate Kid Flash one.

The smiles on their faces made Jaime smile himself. The drawing was pretty, no doubt. He wondered if he should color it in.

 _God, no._ he shook his head. His smile faded. He was concerned more than anything else. How had he subconsciously drawn something like this?

From the corner of his eye, he swore he could have saw the image of his father sitting on a thick tree branch, in his clean white robes, fishing. Though when he centered his vision on the area, there was nothing.

Maybe the air up here was too thin. He had to get down. He closed his sketchbook, and traveled down as quickly as possible, taking in the the clean air that the ground provided him.

He began to walk back towards the house. The sun was beginning to set, and dinner would be soon, he noted. He returned to the house, placed his sketchbook back on his nightstand, then returned back downstairs. It was a stereotypical dinner; chicken, green beans, and cauliflower.

Still, his mind wasn't focused upon the food placed in front of him. It was more of what happened when he was up in the trees. In a strange way, he wasn't crept out. It almost felt normal, but not normal at the same time. Jaime couldn't place his finger on it. It really didn't make any sense, but somehow he perfectly comprehended it.

Before he knew it, he was finished with his plate, and Dick began to exit the house.

Maybe Jaime could confide in him.

"Oh, hey, Jaime." Dick greeted as the Hispanic teen caught up to him.

"Can we talk about something?" Jaime asked quickly.

"Sure. Want a joint?" Dick offered, and Jaime was happy to accept. He really needed to calm down more than anything else right now.

They traveled their way to the weed-tree, Dick pulling out a lighter and rolling a couple of joints, and they began to smoke. Jaime sighed, slamming the back of his head lightly on the trunk of the tree.

"What's up, Jaime?" Dick asked, blowing out the smoke.

"Dick, I think I'm gay." Jaime admitted, the words tumbling out of his mouth.

"Oh?" Dick grinned, "Which farm boy made you start thinking that?"

"That doesn't matter." Jaime could feel the heat hitting his cheeks, "I just want reassurance. I'm not sure if I'm actually gay, I mean I've had girlfriends and-"

"Bisexuality is a thing, y'know?" Dick asked, then looked at him, "You can like girls and boys at the same time."

"But even _girls,_ though. Like I think girls are pretty and cute but... but I'm not like, attracted to them like _that."_ Jaime explained, "That took me a while to realize. But _still."_

"Well, you can be attracted to neither, too. Just because you don't like girls doesn't mean you automatically have to like boys. Asexuality?" Dick asked.

Jaime felt like such a child getting so embarrassed like this. He was an adult now, he knew. He should act like one.

"Jaime, have you found guys attractive?" Dick asked next when Jaime didn't respond.

"Yeah." Jaime mumbled. God, he needed to stop blushing so much. This was ridiculous.

"Well, congratulations. You're gay. Let's throw a party." Dick laughed, and Jaime laughed along nervously, too.

"I guess so." he mumbled.

"You should ask him out." Dick commented, taking another hit.

"Who's _him,_ hermano?" Jaime asked.

"Oh, shut up. We both know who I'm talking about." Dick slapped him playfully, "I kinda ship you two."

"What's shipping?"

"You don't wanna know."

And Jaime laughed, looking at Dick, suddenly feeling at ease. This Dick wasn't like the Nightwing in his dreams. Nightwing was very fit, well groomed, and serious.

Yet, there was a tint of similarity between the two. Maybe if Dick put more effort into his appearance and sobered up, they'd be two of the same.

"I don't think he's interested in me." Jaime mumbled.

"Please, dude. You're super fucking hot. I'm surprised he didn't try to get with you already." Dick commented.

 _"You_ think I'm hot?" Jaime asked, suddenly super confused.

"I mean, yeah. You're friends with my little brother though, so fucking you would be kind of weird." Dick continued.

"Sheesh, you're _really_ open about your thoughts." Jaime commented back.

"Hell yeah. You know, when I was a senior in high school, I made it my goal to fuck as many freshmen as possible." Dick began to tell his tale.

"Oh? How'd that go for you?" Jaime asked, genuinely curious.

"Great. I did the calculations and I got my penis inside seventy-one percent of them." Dick finished.

"Wow. That's kind of disturbing yet I'm proud of you. And the fact I could have been one of them terrifies me more." Jaime laughed, lighting up a new joint.

"Well, you weren't. And if you're curious, fifty-one percent of them were girls. The other forty-nine percent were boys."

 _"Holy shit."_ Jaime gasped.

"Please don't tell Tim about this." he requested.

"Nope. This talk stays between us. Everything we said underneath this tree stays underneath this tree." Jaime insisted.

"Now that," Dick grinned, "I like the sound of."

* * *

Blue Beetle tore across the sky, slamming into Black Beetle, who was thrown off by the blow, and he slammed into the brick wall, sending cracks in it. He grunted in pain, falling to his knees, trying to catch his breath.

But Jaime wasn't done. He took both of his arms and put them in front of his chest, to form a large plasma cannon. The plasma cannon charged up for a few seconds before letting out a blast, sending the larger Beetle through the brick wall, and into the office building.

Blue Beetle walked through the broken wall, his orange lenses allowing him to see through the debris that floated through the air. He walked over the broken brick, and saw Black Beetle on the ground, gasping for air, his armor ripped to shreds, exposing his green skin that previously hid underneath it.

"No," Black Beetle grunted, "This _can't_ be happening." he looked up at Jaime, his eyes filled with a mix of surprise and fear.

"But it is." Jaime responded in a husky voice, and he bent down and flipped Black over, to where his scarab was. He grabbed hold of the scarab, and with a swift and strong motion, pulled it out of his back. Black let out a cry of pain, and Jaime threw the scarab across the room, to which it clattered somewhere in the distance.

It was over.


	11. Chapter 11

**WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER:**

 **-homophobia**

 **-violent attacks**

 **-self-harm**

 **-I'm sorry...**

* * *

It was a quiet night in the Allen home, and Bart wasn't doing much. Nobody appeared to be house, and he was hungry, so he quickly made himself some ramen and ate it at the kitchen table. His dad returned from work, an angry and frustrated look plastered upon his face.

"You." he grumbled as he put his keys on the key-rack, a small jingle being the next noise after his voice.

"Yeah, Dad?" Bart asked.

His dad unbuckled his belt, and mumbled, _"You fucking faggot."_ in the process.

Bart just sat there, frozen in fear. He was about to get up and run, but Don grabbed him, and he screamed.  
 _  
"Where do you think you're going?"_ he asked, _"Off to visit your fucking boyfriend?"_

 _"Let me go!"_ Bart commanded, and tried to squirm from his father's grasp.

 _"No son of mine is a goddamn faggot!"_ Don screamed, throwing Bart on the floor, knocking the wind out of him.

Bart began to run, but when he got to the front door, his father was there, an evil smile on his face. How was that even _possible?!_

He held the belt in his hands, quickly lashing at Bart, and he yelped as he felt the sting on his arm, right where his near-death cut had been. He looked at it, and began to silently spill out tears. He tried running out of the back door, but his father somehow stood in front of there suddenly as well.

The room darkened, and he was left in the pitch black. He screamed for help, but nobody came. He ran around blindly, but ended up smacking into a wall, and his nose violently bled.

He suddenly felt more lashes of the belt against his back, each sting more painful than the last. Not knowing what to do, he curled into a ball, cried, and bled, all while listening to his father's words that stung worse than the belt lashes.

 _"Fucking faggot."_

 _"Disgrace to this family."_

 _"You're lucky I don't do worse to you."_

 _"I'm not allowing my own fucking son to be gay."_

 _"You're going to Hell."_

 _"You're a disappointment to all of us."_

* * *

Bart woke up, screaming louder than he would like to admit. And he cried.

Jaime was at his bed within a matter of a second.

"J-Jaime," he cried, and began to mumble incoherent things he couldn't understand. He cried into Jaime's shoulder, not caring about how the tears wet his t-shirt.

Jaime held him close, comforting him as much as possible, speaking soothing words to Bart as he began to calm down. Mr. Kent entered the room, a tired and confused look on his face.

"Is everything okay in here? I heard a scream."

"Yeah. He just had a very bad dream." Jaime explained. The elderly farmer nodded before making his way out, closing the door behind him.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Jaime asked after he left.

"Tomorrow, please." Bart begged, then sighed, pulling away from Jaime, looking at the ground, "I don't think I'll be able to sleep tonight."

"Do you want to sleep in my bed?"

The question embarrassed Bart, and he was glad that Jaime couldn't see his obviously-tomato-red face in the dark.

"Sure." he finally agreed. Jaime guided him to his bed, and Bart knew this probably wasn't the best idea. It could take _quite_ the turn.

 _It won't,_ he told himself. There was no reason why it should be. Jaime was obviously comfortable with his sexuality, and it wouldn't bother him to sleep in the same bed with another guy. Ironically enough, Bart noted, the most macho and homophobic men ended up being secretly gay.

He made his way in, though it was cramped. The bed was obviously made for only one person, and it would start to get balls-sweat hot within a few minutes.

Though, Bart didn't care. Jaime's breathing relaxed him and slowed down his heart rate. Still, a question lingered at the back of his mind.

"Blue?"

"Hmm?" Jaime responded, obviously very tired.

"Why do you care about me so much?"

Jaime was quiet for a few moments before saying, "You're a good person, Bart."

"But this is strange... you've been acting... angry for the past few days." Bart brought up, and wondered if he made a mistake saying that.

Though even in the dark, he could see Jaime smile, "I won't anymore."

"Oh. Okay." Bart acknowledged. Their conversation ended there, and within a few moments, Bart fell asleep.

 **SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 5TH**

Jaime colored in the drawing.

It was so strange, really. In costume, Impulse/Kid Flash had sleeves. And when Bart was clothed, he always wore long sleeves. The only time Jaime saw the strange pink lines on Bart's arms in his dreams were when he was, appropriately enough, naked.

Of course, those were still _just dreams._ Yet, despite that, the pink lines concerned him. They weren't normal, and they drove Jaime crazy. He didn't know whether or not Bart actually had them. Did the Bart in his dreams self-harm, or just get severely attacked to to the point where it left the ugly lines on his arms?

He could have sworn he saw some on his thighs, too, though.

He only asked Bart if he could see his arms once, as Bart always wore long sleeves and/or hoodies. But it made sense, really. The weather was already starting to cool down by the time they arrived to the farm. Bart said no. And Jaime respected that. The question was out of nowhere and strange.

Could he ask again?

He didn't want to.

Maybe he should just drop it.

x

Jaime watched Bart from the distance as he raked up the last leaves that fell onto the ground with Roy. They're holding a small conversation, but Jaime is too far away to hear it.

He could imagine himself having something more with the brunet haired boy, but he's scared. Jaime, a former drug dealer who would carry a knife and gun on him at nearly all times and threaten to kill people when they angered him was _scared._ He was scared the entire time. He's been scared ever since his father's death. Scared of different things at different times. He was so scared back at home that he thought the thug persona he put on was actually _him._

But that Jaime wasn't real. That Jaime was a character. The real Jaime was just a scared being, trembling like a leaf, uncertain on how he should pursue his pathetic crush that he held.

Bart was so beautiful, everything about him. The color of his hair, skin, and eyes. The way he laughed, talked, and always kept an optimistic attitude. Meanwhile, Jaime sat around on the sidelines, acting like a grumpy toddler.

Bart was too good for him.

 **WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 22ND**

Porky didn't consume formula anymore. He was now a fat little oinkster, but that didn't change the fact that he liked to sit on Bart's lap while he petted him. As the piglet aged, he started to smell worse, but by now Bart was used to it.

"Have you ever had a crush on somebody you know you'll never be with?" Bart asked. The piglet didn't respond- pigs didn't talk. "I don't want to be in love with him." Bart continued, "Because first of all, he's straight. Second of all, he's a fucking drug dealer. I probably would have continued to buy weed from him if it wasn't for what happened. People don't _fall in love_ with their _drug dealers!"_

"Oink."

"Yeah, yeah. I know. I just wish I could have fallen in love with somebody else. Somebody who just... I don't know. Somebody that could possibly make my family come around. But he'd never make my family come around. My dad hates him already. I mean, I guess that doesn't matter because we're not even _in_ Keystone anymore. My family isn't here." Bart sighed, "I don't even know what I'm talking about. I'm never gonna end up dating him, too, so essentially every single thing I'm saying to you doesn't matter."

"Oink."

"Right."

x

The next few weeks pretty much flew past for Jaime, which was perfectly fine. He was now happier with his life than he had been for four years. He and his housemates mostly spent their time working together to prepare for winter, and even though he spent the majority of his time with Bart, he never tried to initiate anything. Too dangerous. And appropriately enough, the snow had arrived today. Roy was the first one to spot it as he and Jaime were helping Mr. Kent make cranberry sauce for Thanksgiving the next day.

Jaime looked out the window, and sure enough, small and gentle snowflakes made their way down towards the ground. Mr. Kent let out a small smile before returning to work.

Jaime walked into his room after he was done, to see Bart sitting on the ground, busy doing something.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Oh. Hey." Bart said, standing up, "I'm building a fort."

"How old are you again?" Jaime teased.

"Age is just a number." Bart insisted, and Jaime suddenly froze. Sure, he heard the saying before, but for Jaime's situation, it was quite the statement.

 _He's fifteen and I'm eighteen,_ he repeated in his head over and over again.

 _Age is just a number,_ the thought crossed his mind, _but jail is "just a place"._

And he felt stupid for even thinking that. Bart hadn't meant it in that kind of context. He meant it in the "Just because I'm fifteen doesn't mean I can't build forts" kind of way.

"Jaime? You still with me?"

Jaime snapped back to reality.

"Right. Have fun with that fort." he nodded, and he knew by then it was about time to leave. He turned around and walked out, and Bart didn't say anything. He made his way out to the front porch, and despite the cold air that immediately overtook him, he stayed on the bench.

Was their age gap really _that big?_

Jaime thought about it, and his mind eventually wandered to the story Dick told about how when he was a senior himself, he banged seventy-one percent of the freshmen. And considering the fact that Dick had a December birthday, he was eighteen the majority of the school year, and he still had fun with people who were fifteen. Even fourteen.

He needed to end the trail of thought altogether. He wasn't necessarily afraid of the law as he was of the Kents. Which was ridiculous, because he knew them for nearly three months now. Still, they could be homophobic or not approve of the age gap between Bart and Jaime- if they found out they had something. Well, they didn't have _anything._ But they could have _something._

Over the course of the month, they shared the same bed around three nights a week- it made sense, really. Bart was having a lot of nightmares about his dad. Jaime hadn't had a dream in a while now. So far, they were never caught. Either that, or nobody said anything.

Yeah, yeah, it probably wasn't the best idea for two gay teens to sleep in a small bed together, Jaime knew. Though Bart still thought he was straight, and he preferred it to remain that way. Embarrassingly enough, Jaime would often find himself waking up with his morning wood pressed up against Bart's stomach or back, and luckily for him, Bart was always still sleeping, and wouldn't notice.

But sleeping together- _literally, not the other way around-_ helped both of them with their nightmares. Neither of them had a nightmare for a few weeks. The last one Bart had, he confided into Jaime the next day like he requested. Jaime hugged him and told him everything was going to be okay and he was safe here, as usual.

 _How could anyone have such a terrifying father?_ Jaime thought to himself, and wondered if the fear of being caught constantly hovered over Bart's head. He then had to remind himself that the only reason they were here in the first place was to escape getting in trouble. And that they were hiding.

It didn't feel like it. It didn't feel like hiding, at least not anymore. It felt like a way of life, and he often liked to forget the harsh reality that lay outside of the Kent farm.

Then it all came tumbling down on him.

 _Holy shit. They hadn't left the Kent property in over two months._

Sure it was a big place, but still! That was crazy!

And suddenly, he felt the need to go running to Bart. Like as if the S.W.A.T. were just gonna crash in from a helicopter in the sky and take Bart away, he ran indoors, back upstairs, and into their room.

He sighed with relief as he realized the most dramatic thing happening was Bart watching re-watching one of the kid movies they watched about two weeks ago inside of the fort. And Jaime almost smiled, but then frowned instead. He could tell Bart ached for his lost childhood, and would do anything to make it up. Jaime didn't blame him. From what he knew, Bart hasn't had a great life since he was like, eleven. Now he was here, at fifteen, trying to relive the happiness and bliss that once filled his mind only a decade before.

"Hey," Jaime said as he entered the fort, and Bart shifted to make room as Jaime sat down. As Jaime focused on the movie, he realized that Bart was watching _Mrs. Doubtfire_ , which according to Mr. Kent, had been one of Clark and Conner's favorites when they were children.

The whole story behind as to why the Kents had the T.V. and the movies in the first place were due to people in town winning the lottery. They decided to use the money to buy "upgraded technology" (well, to 2001 standards, at least). They were good friends with the Kents, so they gave them their box T.V. with the VCR installed inside of it, as well as many movies. The Kents didn't want the movies that were inappropriate for Clark and Conner (who were three months old and seven years old at the time), so they just took the kids' movies.

Clark and Conner grew up watching those movies. They continued to watch the T.V. for about seven or so years before losing interest in it, to which, Mr. Kent just threw it back up in the attic.

Jaime tensed somewhat as he felt the weight of Bart's head on his shoulder and he was snapped out of his thoughts. He didn't know why he was surprised, it wasn't like it wasn't anything new. Bart made a grunt as if he were confused, and Jaime stopped tensing, then brought his arm around Bart's waist to assure him he wasn't going anywhere. Bart made another noise, but it sounded like more of a happy noise than a grunting noise- or whatever. He fixed his shape so it fit more nicely in Jaime's hold, and Jaime could feel Bart's hair tickle the side of his face as he shifted.

 _Should he do it? Right here? Right now? Why? Why not? What was he waiting for?  
_  
Really, Jaime didn't know what he was waiting for. He looked at his brown-haired friend, who looked back up at him once he realized Jaime was looking at him. The expression on his face was seemingly blank at first, but as Jaime looked deeper, he could see that there were tints of mixed emotions thrown in there.

 _"Bart, I- uh, I-"_ he stuttered. God dammit, why was he stuttering? He shouldn't be stuttering. He wasn't supposed to stutter.

 _"I've gotta pee."_

"Uh... okay?" was the confused voice that came out of Bart's mouth. It suddenly sank into Jaime as to what he just said. If he wasn't lobster-red already, he definitely was now. He suddenly scrambled away from Bart, getting out of the fort and standing up, and though it looked like Bart returned to watching the movie, Jaime could tell Bart was starting at him one way or another.

He practically sprinted to the bathroom, closing and locking the door, wanting nothing more than to suddenly not exist.

God, he was just so _stupid!_ _"I've gotta pee"? Seriously?!_

He splashed ice-cold water on his face, trying to slow down his rapid heartbeat. Never in such a long time had he felt so embarrassed and ashamed of himself. He let himself breathe for about a minute, knowing that he had to return eventually. Sighing, he slowly opened the knob, and exited the bathroom, went back down the hallway, and eventually, back into their room. Bart still sat in the position as he did when Jaime left, and Jaime continued to sit next to him, acting as if nothing happened.

Still, there was a tense awkwardness that settled between them, and Jaime hated every millisecond that he experienced of it. He was relieved when Mrs. Kent came into their room telling them that they should go to bed soon, breaking the tenseness. Though, when she closed the door, it returned. The movie began to roll its credits, and Jaime got up, wondering if Bart would sleep in his bed that night. Luckily for him, things seemed normal for Bart, and he crawled right in after he turned out the lights. He didn't bring up what happened only about an hour ago, or speak at all, and Jaime was perfectly content with it that way.

He wanted things to stay the way they were. They weren't as scary that way.

 **MONDAY, DECEMBER 4TH**

Thanksgiving passed without an awkward encounter, and for the next week and a half, things were just like how they used to be. On the last day of November, Dick had asked Jaime why he hadn't "made a move" yet, and Jaime simply responded with that he wasn't ready.

Because he wasn't. Almost three fucking months have passed of living on this farm, and another three months could pass and Jaime still probably wouldn't feel ready. Hell, make it three years. Decades. Centuries.

On the first, Dick turned twenty-one, and it was quite the birthday bash. He was so drunk and high at the same time Jaime was afraid he'd out him as gay. Fortunately, that never happened. He was too busy telling stories like how he accidentally shitted in his foster dad's Mercedes Benz once, how a police officer shot him in the leg once, his first experience of being pegged, and about the time he put laxatives in Tim's dinner the night before his final exams.

Today, the snow made itself prominent, and Jaime already had cabin fever. He could go outside, but not like he could three months ago. He'd need his winter gear. He couldn't wait until spring, and that wasn't for three or four months, depending on how the weather ended up being like.

So, yeah, it would make sense as to why he was feeling kind of down. And doing farm-work in the snow sucked. However, the Kents made sure that they were occupied with plenty of Christmas spirit. Tomorrow, they'd take the day off to decorate the house for the holiday. Today, however, it was mostly sorting out and piling wood inside the house. Which, to any sane person in the world, would be pretty boring.

Luckily, there were a good amount of eight people doing the task. Bart would have been a good help, too, but he had began to feel sick yesterday night. Though Jaime didn't admit it to anybody (though he did reveal some stuff with during a few chit-chats here and there with Dick), he was severely worried about Bart. He wasn't himself when he was sick- who was, anyways? Bart had lost that bright look that he had held in his green eyes for these past few months, and Jaime didn't like it at all.

And something was telling Jaime that Bart wasn't _really_ sick- at least not in any physical aspects.

But he brushed that off of his shoulder, and continued to sort the wood.

 **TUESDAY, DECEMBER 5TH**

Jaime helped decorate the house for Christmas with everybody except Bart.

He wasn't feeling the holiday spirit.

He knew what he had to do. Sighing, he put the ornaments he was holding down and told the rest of the house he was checking on Bart. He shuffled his way up the stairs, and walked down the hallway with confidence, but refrained from entering their room once he got to the door.

"How do I do this?" he asked himself. His heart was beating crazily fast by now, and he hadn't even confessed anything yet. "It's not that hard." he whispered to himself, "Just be like, 'Bart, I think I'm holding feelings for you.' Wait, _no._ Not think. 'Bart, I'm in love with you.' But is that too much? Too strong? 'Bart, my dreams helped me figure out that I want to be with you.' ...that just makes me sound like a freak!" he shook his head, "God, Reyes, get your head together. Just _do it_ already!" he screamed at himself. Finally getting himself together, he sighed and grabbed the doorknob with his hand (which was profusely sweating) and entered the room.

His jaw dropped at the sight before him.

And suddenly, he wondered how he could be so foolish to think that it wasn't even happening.

 **3 MINUTES PREVIOUS**

One year ago today, Bart almost died.

He couldn't stop thinking about it. The way he sat on the bathroom floor, just _waiting_ for death. He didn't even try to kill himself, but wanted to, anyways. It was terrifying.

All of that, only to end up surviving in the end, it made him want to cut.

Bart didn't want to die anymore. He had somebody he loved and great friends on top of that.

 _But he wanted to cut._

And so he pulled out the knife he had been using for who-knows-how-long-by-now, and looked at it reflect in the ceiling fan's light before bringing it to his wrist.

It brought him such a sense of peace, being alone in the room and feeling the familiar sharp stinging pain in his skin. He watched as the dark red blood slid down his wrist, dripping its way onto the floor. The sight was so common now that it was like watching a movie or a T.V. show- like it wasn't any worse.

And he made another. This one was somewhat deeper than the other, and Bart hadn't realized how deep it was until it violently dripped to the floor at a much faster rate than the previous one.

 _Careful Allen,_ he told himself, _you might accidentally kill yourself._

And Bart realized with a shudder that killing himself didn't sound like the worst thing in the world. It wasn't- it wasn't in the past. Whenever he cut, he felt like he was back in the previous year, wanting to die.

 _But I don't want to die,_ he had to remind himself over and over again, _I don't want to die._

The third cut wasn't as deep as the second one. Which, Bart decided, was progress. He wondered if he should stop, but another shallow cut couldn't hurt, right?

And he made a fourth.

 _Another shallow cut couldn't hurt, right?_

A fifth.

 _Another shallow cut couldn't hurt, right?_

A sixth.

And the thought process repeated in his head, until he realized with a horror that his entire forearm was stained red in blood. He didn't know what to do. He just sat there frozen, staring at the cuts he somehow didn't believe he created on his left arm.

 _"...Bart?"_

Bart's eyes widened, and he could feel the adrenaline rush fill his body. Quickly, he tried to hide the knife, and he pulled up his sleeve, but it was already obvious Jaime had seen enough.

 _"Bart..."_

He didn't dare look at Jaime. He wasn't supposed to find out about this. He could barely hear Jaime's footsteps over the heartbeat that thumped in his ears. Jaime sat down, putting a hand on his shoulder, and Bart only had one instinct. It was what he was best at. It's what he was made to do.

 _Run._

And run he did. He ran faster than he ever recalled running before. He hadn't even realized he was out of the house until he felt the cold snow of the outside sting his feet like his cuts stung his arms earlier. He wasn't wearing any shoes, or any appropriate clothing for this kind of weather, but he didn't care. All he did was run. He could hear Jaime shouting his name in the distance, but Jaime wasn't as fast. Soon, his name would drown out in the wind, and that was a good thing. Bart didn't want to hear his name now.

His feet and legs were numb, yet the nothingness was soothing. Bart could see his breath pierce the air. He went into the treeline, and continued to run, refusing to stop at any costs. He needed to get away, he needed to run away, as far as his legs could carry him.

His body grew tired, though mentally, he was still going strong. He pushed his body further and further, and knew he'd soon be on the verge of collapsing. His body wouldn't be able to take the combination of the long-distance sprinting plus the cold.

And as he ran, Bart realized with a horror that he had slid backwards on an icy pond that was hidden underneath the snow, and the night sky didn't help, either. The ice soon cracked, and he violently plunged headfirst into the water.

The water was _so cold._ It was as if a thousand knives suddenly stabbed him all at once. He thrashed himself around, not knowing which direction he was headed, because all he could comprehend was _how fucking cold_ everything was.

Bart frantically looked for the surface, but he couldn't tell which way was up, and his body was too exhausted to push him much further, as he had spent all of his energy on running. He finally got a sense of direction and shot up to the surface, breaking the ice in the process, and managed to catch a breath of air. However, the victory was short-lived, as he tried to get a grip on some of the other ice, but it continued to break. He desperately tried to swim to the edge of the pond, but the freezing water was stiffening his muscles, and he was so goddamn tired. Still, he tried, and soon enough, his vision started to falter.

 _So this is how I'm going to die,_ he thought at the back of his mind, _but I don't want to die!_

He thrashed again and thrashed again and thrashed again, trying to escape, but the freezing water eventually made its goal of completely freezing his muscles, and he began to fall underneath the water, holding his breath as he did. He barely managed to get his head above the surface once again for another breath of air. He looked out as well, but he was still nowhere near an edge. He sunk back down under. He attempted to get back up to the surface for the third time, but he knew it was hopeless. Bart was losing his breath more rapidly than he liked, and with the combination of the dark water and flickering eyesight, he couldn't see a thing. Just because he didn't want to die didn't mean it wasn't going to happen. He closed his eyes, accepting his fate.

It was such a shame he never would get to confess his feelings to Jaime.

 _Oh, well._

 _Too late.  
_

A small flicker of hope went through him; if there was an afterlife, maybe he'd see Blue there one day.

Perhaps everything would be okay in the end.

He didn't have too much time to think upon it, though, because Bart could feel himself shutting down.

And there was the calm nothingness.


	12. Chapter 12

**WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER:**

 **-(minor) self-harm**

* * *

Jaime couldn't stop to take a breath. He had consistently ran, following the footsteps Bart had left in the snow, hoping to find him somewhere safe, perhaps curled underneath a tree, shivering, so he could take him back to the house and promise he'll take care of him and help him.

He should have known Bart was cutting. He suspected it, but never _knew._

He should have _known._

It felt like he had been following the footsteps forever, they never seemed to end. Bart was just _so fucking fast!_

Jaime followed the footsteps for about forty more seconds before he had to stop himself from falling into a pond. He looked around for some more steps around the pond, then his heart dropped.

And he let out a scream of horror as he realized what happened. He scanned the pond, but couldn't see Bart. He eventually barely made out his figure as he looked deeper, the moonlight of the night being his only aide. He tore off his jacket and dove in, swimming frantically to grab Bart, pulling his head up above the surface as soon as he grabbed him. The water was so fucking freezing and it was so fucking dark, it wasn't even funny, and Bart was weighing him down. Still, he pushed himself. He made it to the surface, slapping Bart's body onto the snow, and he caught his own breath, pulling himself out of the water, then picking up Bart and wrapping him in his jacket, and he began to perform what he knew of CPR, not even bothering to check a pulse.

 _Interlock fingers. Bring hands to his heart. Push one-hundred times a minute. Push fast. Push hard. Keep his heart going, if it hadn't stopped already. Push his chin back, pinch his nose, and supply air. Continue pushing,_ he worked out the steps he had memorized from health class in his head. Jaime cried as he did the process, and he couldn't stop himself. He was too scared and tired to stop. He could feel the warm tears roll down his face, contrasting themselves to the freezing weather.

It felt like forever, but Bart finally began to cough out water, and Jaime could feel his heart burst with joy. His tears of fear turned to tears of relief, and he could barely stop himself from grabbing Bart and hugging him, but he had to let Bart cough out the water. It took about a minute for him to finish, but still, he was light-headed and groggy, barely aware of his surroundings, and about ready to pass out again. Jaime knew it wasn't over. He wrapped Bart in his jacket once again, and picked him up, and began to run back towards the house.

He was exhausted. He couldn't feel any of his limbs, and his skin was full of splotches of blue and white. He wanted to stop to take a break, but if he did, he knew he and Bart could freeze to death. He ran and Bart made small noises, otherwise, not much else. He burst into the house, on the verge of collapsing. He had to think quickly. It was late at night, and everyone was asleep. He practically tore up the stairs as he ran up them, slamming his way into the bathroom, turning on the shower, impatiently waiting for it to heat up. He supported himself on the sink, trying to catch his breath. Eventually, the shower did warm up, after about thirty seconds. He unwrapped Bart, placing him on the shower's bench, and the warm water washed over the both of them. At first, it stung, which alarmed Bart and tore him from his dazed state. He was confused, scared, and Jaime had to grab hold of him to calm him down.

"Am I dead?" was Bart's first full comprehensible question once he relaxed somewhat.

Jaime didn't respond.

Or, not with words, at least.

The kiss alarmed Bart more than the hot water. It was clumsy, desperate, sloppy, and he just stood there, frozen like he was in the pond. Though, his mind soon caught up with him, and he kissed back, equally as clumsily and sloppily. It was definitely not what the movies were like, he noted. They always made out kisses to be elegant and smooth. He could feel his lips hit Jaime's teeth and vice versa, and he was surprised neither of them hadn't bit each other yet. It was absolutely a mess.

But it was absolutely a perfect mess.

They halted as soon as they heard the heavy footsteps of Roy barge into the bathroom, and he looked at him with his tired blue eyes. Judging by the lack of surprise on his face, he most likely hadn't seen anything.

"What the fuck are you two doing?" he mumbled, and Mr. Kent was behind him, peering over, the same tired expression on his face.

"Grab us some towels and we'll explain." Jaime responded. He turned off the shower, and the silence made him feel uneasy. Roy gave them an odd look at first, but obliged, and tossed them two towels. They wrapped themselves in them. Mr. Kent folded his arms, obviously wanting a good explanation as to why they decided to hop into the noisy shower together when everyone was trying to sleep.

"I- uh, _we_ nearly froze to death." was the first sentence out of Bart's mouth that was directed to Mr. Kent. His face went from stern to surprised, and the group of four decided to go downstairs to talk. They could see the wet and muddy stains left by Jaime's shoes as they traveled down the steps. When they finally reached the first floor, Roy was nice enough to make hot chocolate, and Jaime explained the story. To Bart's relief, he didn't mention the part about seeing Bart's scars, but instead, said Bart had a panic attack (which was only a half-lie), and ran off. The rest was the truth, and Bart was impressed to hear about how Jaime jumped into the water to rescue him at the risk of drowning himself.

Mr. Kent looked over to Bart, "He saved your life, son. Thank him, won't you?"

Bart grinned and looked over to Jaime, "Thanks for saving me, dude."

"Not a problem." Jaime grinned back, "I do this kind of thing everyday." he joked.

Well, Blue Beetle did. Jaime Reyes didn't.

"Go to bed whenever you guys want. Take the rest of the week off to recover." Mr. Kent insisted, and the two teens nodded. He went upstairs to sleep, and Roy talked to them for a few more minutes before they all went upstairs together, and Jaime silently closed the door to their room while Roy went off to his own. They were dry enough now, but were still slightly damp.

Silence filled the room.

"We just made out in the shower." Bart said, breaking the silence, not looking up.

"Yeah, I guess we did." Jaime chuckled somewhat, rubbing the back of his neck. "Also by the pond..."

"What?" Bart asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I gave you mouth-to-mouth."

"Oooh, _hot."_ Bart snickered.

 _"'Hot'?_ Anything but!" Jaime exclaimed, "Are you kidding me, ese? I don't think I've ever been that cold in my life!"

"Well, regardless, like I said downstairs, thanks for saving me, dude." Bart smiled, looking for dry clothes to put on before bed.

Jaime then looked up at him. "Seriously?" he teased, "I saved your life and all you had to say was 'thanks for saving me, dude'?"

"Well, how else do you want me to thank you?" Bart teased back.

"A kiss for the brave knight, perhaps?" Jaime butchered an English accent, and Bart snorted.

"Don't you remember what we just talked about? We already did that. Twice, technically." he said as he changed shirts.

"What? You don't want to do it a third time?" Jaime asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No, I do!" Bart countered quickly, and to prove himself, he ran up to him, wrapped his arms around his neck and aggressively kissed him.

It caught Jaime off-guard, and he fell backwards onto Bart's bed. Bart broke apart, grinning at the other teen, straddling him, "Gotcha."

"I don't think so." was Jaime's response as he took Bart and flipped him over, and he let out a squeak of surprise. Jaime was the one to straddle him this time, and he grinned.

"No fair." Bart whined, trying not to laugh.

"Yeah, it is." Jaime disagreed, and he continued to kiss him, his hands keeping Bart's arms pushed out on the bed so he couldn't try to win this game of makeout-wrestling that they had somehow initiated.

"I'm gonna-" Bart said between the kisses, "-get you."

"No you're not." Jaime purred, and began to go for Bart's neck, and he let out another surprise-squeak.

 _"Fuck-_ you win." he hissed, and Jaime let out another purr. Bart tried to keep his breath calm and steady, though it was proving difficult. He would have grabbed the pillow behind him to moan into, but Jaime already had his arms held back. The only thing he could do was let out short whines, which made him sound like a dying goat in his opinion, but Jaime didn't seem to mind. Finally, Jaime stopped himself, knowing very well that if he continued further, they could get caught. He let go of Bart, who sat upon the bed, feeling his neck with his left hand. It was already sore, and Bart just hoped there wouldn't be too nasty of bruises on there the next day.

"So," he smirked, "straight?"

"Not at all." Jaime confirmed and nodded his head, then looked at the clock on the wall, "We should get going to bed."

"Yeah." Bart agreed. Jaime got up and turned out the lights before crawling into Bart's bed with him.

"Bart, about the cutting..." Jaime began.

"...yeah?" Bart asked nervously, and Jaime could sense the fear that began to overcome him.

"...you have a beautiful body, amor. Please don't hurt yourself." Jaime finished.

"I won't," Bart promised as he burrowed into Jaime's chest, "I won't anymore."

Sure, it would be difficult. But he would try.

Jaime just smiled.

One year ago, Bart Allen almost died.

One year later, he almost died again.

One year ago, Bart Allen wanted nothing more than death.

One year later, he was happier than ever to be alive.

 **WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 6TH**

His fears came true as Bart looked in the mirror the next morning. He hadn't even realized how badly Jaime bruised up his neck because he was too focused on not being too loud last night.

He could feel a blush creeping up his face and neck, and he took the hoodie he was wearing and covered his head. Mrs. Kent had cut their hair a few times since arriving to the farm, and unfortunately, Bart's hair wasn't long enough to fall over his hickeys. He could just use the hood as an excuse of feeling traumatized from the event that happened yesterday and wanting to be left alone. Of course, it bothered him for real, but his good experience with Jaime last night outweighed the bad experience of nearly drowning/freezing to death by a long shot.

He made his way downstairs for breakfast, and obviously the rest of the household had heard about what happened, because they didn't ask him any questions or bother to talk to him. They headed out in the snow to do their work after breakfast, and Bart went into the living room to read a thick book that Mrs. Kent had recommended to him while he sat in the recliner near the fireplace. Jaime decided he didn't want to take today off and ended up working with everyone else. Mrs. Kent kept Bart company, talking about a few things here and there. He switched back and forth between reading his book and listening to Mrs. Kent tell her story about how she met her husband.

Apparently someone in their high school threw a party, and they decided to show up with their friends. They met each other while playing beer-pong (they were competing against each other) and Mrs. Kent eventually ended up winning (who would have known?). They decided to hang out for the rest of the party, but then the police crashed it, and started to arrest everyone. They ran, and escaped. They hung out for about two months before dating, and haven't separated since.

"Exciting story you got there, Mrs. Kent." Bart laughed, "I never imagined you as the partying type."

"Back in the day, I was." Mrs. Kent explained, "Not so much anymore." and she chuckled at the memories.

 _This old lady is cooler than me,_ Bart thought. He then frowned. He would have gone to a party on that night three months ago if his dad didn't catch him.

 _Wait. Who ragged him out in the first place?!_

It definitely wasn't Garfield, he knew that for sure. But seriously, who would it be?

He wondered if the party ever happened in the first place.

Holy shit. He forgot all about life back at home. What did people think when he went missing? He was quite popular at school, there were probably so many rumors spreading about him!

 _Should he have just turn himself in at the moment? Or go when Jaime told him to leave? But if he did that, then he never would be with Jaime! But-_

He then began to panic. What if he was forced back there one day? No, that was ridiculous. They wouldn't find him. Still, he breathed heavily, no matter how much he tried to reason with himself.

"Bart, honey, are you okay?" the concerned voice of Mrs. Kent filled his ears.

"Sorry. I just started having a panic attack about what happened yesterday." Bart lied. Of course it was a lie. He couldn't tell her the truth.

"That's okay. Would you like some tea to calm down?" Mrs. Kent asked.

Bart nodded. He never had tea before, but he figured he might as well drink some.

A frown of disappointment spread across his face. If it hadn't been for such a horrible situation, he wouldn't even be _friends_ with Jaime.

And not only three months before had Jaime held a gun underneath his chin.

x

"Are you feeling okay?" Jaime asked as Bart sat in his lap, something obviously on his mind.

"Fine, it's just... I'm kind of sad." Bart admitted.

"Oh? Why?"

"Well, if it wasn't for this, we wouldn't have met, that's all."

"So? If it weren't for a lot of things, a lot of people wouldn't have met." Jaime countered.

"Yeah but... it's just... you wanted to stab me with a knife." Bart replied and chuckled nervously.

"I'd rather stab you with something else." Jaime smirked, then chuckled.

Bart blushed as he got the joke, then playfully hit him, and Jaime playfully hit back. It then proceeded to become a full-on wrestling match, and they fell off Bart's bed, creating a loud clunk on the floor. Jaime ended up winning their short match, as Bart suspected. He didn't mind, though.

 _My past with Jaime doesn't matter,_ he thought to himself, _it already happened. What matters is us, here and now._

 _"Fast, not strong."_ Bart mumbled beneath him as Jaime held him down to the floor before letting him go.

"Is everything okay? I heard a noise up here." the voice of Mr. Kent filled the room.

"Yep." the two boys nodded, and Mr. Kent nodded as well before leaving.

"Sheesh, I'm always gonna be so paranoid that they're gonna catch us doing something." Jaime mumbled after the elderly farmer left.

"We were wrestling." Bart replied.

"Other things, you goof." Jaime rolled his eyes, then a serious look fell over his face.

"Speaking of which, do you still have your virginity?"

Bart thinks about it for a second. He's only kissed people before, but that was it. Nothing he'd considered losing his virginity. He nodded silently.

Jaime grinned, "I can get rid of it for you."

Bart didn't want to admit how excited he got over one sentence. He wants to ask Jaime if he's still a virgin as well, but he doesn't care. Jaime's already pulling him into his lap, and he knows they shouldn't do this right now. It was daytime, and the house was busy. He only just kissed Jaime yesterday night, it was too soon afterwards. Still, he didn't care.

Right when their lips connected did the memories of J.C. from the previous year come flooding back to him, and he pulled away, hyperventilating. Jaime stood frozen as a statue for a moment before speaking.

"If you're not ready, that's okay. I'm not gonna pressure you into doing anything you don't want. It was a dumb idea to try and do something right now, anyways."

Bart did want to. He wanted to more than anything else in the world right now. But he _couldn't._

"I'm sorry. I can't trust you."

Jaime looked surprised at first, but the surprised soon turned into heartbreak. He only made small whines out of the back of his throat in disbelief, and Bart realized what he had done.

"No, it's not like that, I swear!" Bart exclaimed, "It's just-"

"You... you don't trust me?" the words squeaked out of Jaime's mouth. He narrowed his eyes and had to stop himself from screaming. "I saved your fucking life, and _you_ _don't trust me?"_

Bart didn't respond. He just sat there, unable to speak.

Then, Jaime shook his head. "Lo siento... I didn't mean to yell at you. I understand. We didn't exactly meet under normal circumstances." he said, bringing up the previous topic. Because it was true. In an ideal world, they would have met at something like a park, or the mall, and became friends which would eventually escalate into something more.

But that wasn't the case. Bart was just a weed customer when they first met. And he hated Bart's guts.

"It's not you." Bart finally replied after seemingly forever.

"Oh?" Jaime looked up at him, but their eyes never met. Bart was staring at the floor.

"I've just had... trust issues after something that happened a while back. Don't worry about it." Bart let out a nervous chuckle.

"What happened, Bart?" Jaime asked, his voice dropping low. The first thing that came to his mind was that Bart was raped, and he sure as hell hoped that wasn't the case.

"I'm not comfortable talking about it." Bart admitted.

"Were you... were you raped?" Jaime could barely get the last word out of his mouth. It disgusted him so much he wanted to gag.

Bart shook his head, "No." he responded, and Jaime couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief.

"Can you please tell me what happened?" he asked, putting a hand on Bart's shoulder to try and reassure him.

That's when Bart began to tell his tale. He told about everything, about how he was friends with J.C. and how he kissed him, how J.C. and his buddies forced him to pay money, and how he almost killed himself. He told about his stay in the hospital and dreading seeing his father once he returned.

Jaime pulled Bart into a secure hug. He could see tears brimmed at the brunet's eyes, and he began to gently whisper in his ear.

"I will _never_ do _anything_ like that to you."

"I know." Bart nodded, "It's an irrational fear. I'm sorry."

"You don't have to apologize." Jaime told him, "If you need to talk about anything else, then just tell me. Okay?"

Bart smiled, "Okay."

 **THURSDAY, DECEMBER 7TH**

"I guess I was wrong." Bart admitted as he continued to pet the pig that was nearly asleep, "Apparently, Jaime and I have a thing now. It took me almost dying, but we do."

He chuckled somewhat and threw his head back, "So he's actually gay... I guess. And the best part is that he kissed first. Not me. And he also left some nasty bruises on my neck... do you want me to go into detail?"

Porky was already fast asleep.

"Whatever. I'm just scared we'll be caught. We'll have to be like spies, in a way." Bart said, "I mean, not to stereotype people who live out in the country or old people, but both tend to be more conservative. Mr. and Mrs. Kent are both old and country-folk. And Conner's young, but he's still a country-folk-person-thing." Bart explained as if Porky didn't know or actually cared.

Bart gently slid the piglet off of his lap, and stood up, brushing off his pants.

"Whatever. I have to go. See you later, Porky."

x

"You seem to be in a better mood recently." Dick commented as he sat on the porch with Jaime, eating corn on the cob.

"I am." Jaime nodded.

"Well, is it true? Did you finally tap dat ass?" Dick chuckled, then spilled pieces of corn all over his jacket, _"Shit."_

Jaime couldn't help but burst into laughter, then he began to talk as Dick wiped off the corn. "No," he admitted, "We made out, and I gave him hickeys, that's it."

"Oh, so that's why he's been wearing the hood." Dick smirked, continuing to eat his corn, "How'd that happen?"

"Well, you already know most of the story, actually." Jaime informed, "I just kissed him in the shower after that one night, then after we were supposed to go to bed, we made out and that's when I gave him the hickeys. He's not ready to do the... _full_ thing yet."

"Nice." Dick grinned, "My boy Jaime's got his gay game going on."

"So did you." Jaime teased.

"I sure did." Dick acknowledged, "Well, in celebration for finally getting some balls, how 'bout we smoke some weed?"

"Sounds cool."

 **FRIDAY, DECEMBER 8TH**

Bart would be lying if he said he didn't have the urge to cut. Of course he did.

He fought it the best he could, really. He tried his hardest. But he couldn't resist the feeling of a mix of exhilaration and relaxation when the cold metal sliced his skin open.

He still had the knife. It was tossed carelessly underneath his pillow a few days ago. He pulled it back out, letting the stinging result of the knife cutting him flow throughout his body. The cut was small, but it was enough to make him calm down. He shoved the knife back under his pillow before he could consider making a second cut.

Still, he knew he needed to tell Jaime what he did. It wouldn't be right if he didn't.

x

It dawned upon Jaime that he hadn't drawn, dreamed, or see his ghostly father in over a month when he was going through his things and found his sketchbook. The fishing pole still sat in that corner, collecting some dust by now.

And somehow, he didn't mind. Everything was just going so fast. Soon enough, it'd be Christmas, and then a new year, and then all of the other holidays would come around. In fact, Valentine's Day wasn't _too_ far off now that he thought about it.

He wanted the time to pass quickly. He wanted winter to be over already, even though it technically wasn't even winter yet. He wanted to feel the damp grass of spring in between his toes, and feel the sun shine on his skin.

Yet, something at the back of his mind told him that he should take things as slowly as possible, and cherish every minute he had of this harsh wintertime. He didn't know why, and it bothered him.

The door squeaked open, and judging by the sound and rhythm of the footsteps, he didn't have to turn around to know who it was.

"Hey, Bart." he greeted from the other side of the room. The brunet teen ran up to him, peeking over his shoulder at the sketchbook, and Jaime flipped to the page of his most recent drawing, the one of him and Bart.

"Ooh, when did you make this?" Bart asked with interest.

"A month ago." Jaime responded.

"Pretty. Another one, please?" Jaime could practically hear Bart's smile in his ear.

"Okay, Mr. Khaled." Jaime joked, and Bart snorted somewhat.

"I just came upstairs to see what you were doing. Tim wants me to help him oil the hinges of the horse stalls. See ya." he kissed him on the side of the head before beginning to exit.

Jaime raised an eyebrow, and turned around, "I thought you had the week off."

"So do you. But I got bored." Bart said, and he closed the door behind him.

x

"I cut this morning." Bart confessed in the dead of night. He could feel Jaime tense at the sentence.

"Why?" was all he asked.

"I couldn't fight the urge." Bart explained, "I was going to tell you after breakfast when you were looking at your drawings, but I got scared. Besides, it was only one little cut, no big deal."

"It is a _big_ deal." Jaime growled.

Bart sighed. "I know. I'm sorry."

"We're gonna do something about it tomorrow." Jaime responded, "Just get some sleep for now."

"What are we gonna do?" Bart asked curiously.

"You'll find out."

Bart didn't bother to ask anymore questions.

 **SATURDAY, DECEMBER 9TH**

"Are we nearing the-" Bart asked as they began to go deeper into the woods.

"Hold my hand." Jaime commanded in a gentle tone, and Bart did. It was reassuring, feeling Jaime's firm hold on his hand, as his other one was holding the knife he'd been using to harm himself.

Bart could make out the pond he almost drowned in four days before. It was frozen over again, but the layer of snow was gone, making it visible. Jaime let go of him, and Bart briefly panicked. He looked for him only to find Jaime grabbing a nearby boulder and throwing it into the pond. The ice collapsed and split apart with the impact, and a large splash was followed after.

Bart burst into tears, dropping the knife and collapsing to his knees, covering his eyes with his gloves. Jaime ran up to him, wrapping his arms around him, whispering softly into his ear.

"Shh, it's okay." he tried to reassure. "Bart, you know what you have to do."

"I _can't."_ Bart cried, the warm tears continuing to roll down his face, _"I'm too fucking scared, Jaime. I can't."_

"You _can."_ Jaime disagreed, helping him up, _"I believe in you, cariño."_

Bart felt weak in the knees, and felt as if he were going to collapse again. He sniffled, the cold air that was uncomfortably piercing his face. Jaime grabbed the knife out of the snow, and handed it to Bart, then continued to hold hands with him.

Bart took a deep breath, feeling the knife in his fingers for a few moments while parts of the blade got snagged onto his gloves. Finally, with a firm grip on it, he tossed the knife in the area where Jaime broke the ice with the boulder, closing his eyes as it flew through the air. He could hear the small splash it created as it sunk down under.

At first, there was only a few moments of silence until Jaime wrapped an arm around Bart's shoulder and began to guide him back. Bart didn't really seem to be absorbing the situation, as he showed no emotion.

"Are you alright?" Jaime asked, looking into his eyes.

Bart let out a small nod before continuing to walk.

Jaime knew he was lying.

 **SUNDAY, DECEMBER 10TH**

The rest of Saturday, Bart was seemingly normal. On Sunday morning, though, Jaime woke up to the sounds of Bart sobbing, then saw him curled up on his bed.

"Bart?" he asked, sitting up and rubbing his head. Bart seemed to notice that Jaime saw and heard him, because he was silent for a second, but then continued to sob. Jaime moved to his bed, taking him so his head rested on his chest and underneath his chin.

"Go away, Jaime." Bart said in a small voice, though he made no attempt to push or get away from the other teen.

"No, Bart." Jaime replied, "It's gonna be okay."

It wasn't going to be okay, and Bart was embarrassed as hell. God, he was such a fucking hot mess. He didn't want Jaime to have to deal with his overly-emotional episodes.

"It's just a dumb thing." he began to explain, "I'll get over it. You need to help the others, or whatever."

"I still have time off." Jaime countered, "And I care about you. Don't act so ashamed, amor. We all have emotions, no matter how hard we try to suppress them."

Bart nodded in acknowledgement.

"So, what's going on with you?"

"I want to cut." Bart whined as if he were a child demanding his mother buy him a toy from the store.

"No, Bart. You can't cut." Jaime scolded as if he were the mother.

"I _know_ I can't." Bart replied, slightly annoyed, "But it's hard, Jaime. It was like an addiction, and now I'm going cold turkey off of it. You don't understand."

"I don't have to understand to know that you can't do this to yourself." Jaime held him tighter, "It's going to be alright." he smiled and looked at him, "Okay?"

Bart couldn't help but smile back at him, "Okay."

 **FRIDAY, DECEMBER 15TH**

Bart had three episodes since Sunday. The first one since then had occurred the next day, in the middle of the night to make matters worse. Jaime had to wake up and comfort him.

God, Bart just felt like such a burden. It didn't help that he burst into tears again, either. He wondered how Jaime could possibly like him at this point and time. He wasn't sure if Jaime knew either.

The second one since Sunday was smaller, and Bart managed to hold back his tears, but barely. Jaime was there, too, and basically the same stuff happened- him holding him close and promising everything would end up being okay. Bart couldn't believe him. Not anymore. It felt like the attacks, whatever they were called (Panic attacks? Emotional attacks?), would never go away, and the only way to stop them would be to continue cutting. But he couldn't cut. The Kents would get suspicious if another one of their knives disappeared, and the knife he had was at the bottom of a freezing pond.

So, he'd have the attacks as a result. They'd come at him like rabid dogs chasing him through the streets at night, grab him, then bite into his skin. He'd try to shake them off, but there were too many.

And all he could do is scream, curl up, and wait for them to be over.

The third one was the worst. You think as they happened Bart would get used to it, but he didn't. He could be simply lying around, reading a book, watching Jaime draw, or eating food, and the attacks would get him. But during the third attack, Jaime wasn't around. He was hanging around with Tim, and Bart suddenly felt himself be tore out of his sleep. The small room felt like it was suffocating him, and he could barely see a thing in the blackness. He tried to calm himself down, but that voice in his head was so irrelevant it may as well not have existed. He grabbed at his throat as if a heavy metal collar had clasped itself on him, and tried to scream for help, but it only came out a feeble cry.

He fell off of his bed, continuing to panic. His mind was so empty yet so full at the same time, it was overwhelming. He curled into a ball and cried, wanting nothing more to cut and relax. But he couldn't. There was nothing he could do to stop the panic that was currently manifesting itself inside of him. He simply cried and closed his eyes.

When he opened them, he had a pillow underneath his head, a blanket draped over him, and a ray from the sun that traveled through the window beamed onto his face.

 **SATURDAY, DECEMBER 16TH**

"Thanks for giving me a blanket and pillow last night while I was passed out on the floor." Bart chuckled nervously. He wrapped his arms around himself. The barn was getting colder by the second, and he could see frost starting to collect on its corners.

"What? I didn't do that." Jaime replied as he lifted up the bucket of water to Dot's stall, "I thought you decided to randomly sleep on the floor. I didn't bother you."

"You didn't?" Bart asked, raising an eyebrow. The next person he could think of was Mrs. Kent or Dick, but even that seemed strange. Mrs. Kent didn't visit their room very often, and though Dick could be sincere, he would probably just look at him, laugh a bit, then leave.

"Timmy did it!" Dick announced from nearby, the noise startling Roy, who was next to him. "I saw him from the doorway."

"Wait, really?" Bart asked, raising an eyebrow.

Dick nodded in confirmation.

"Well, I guess I should thank him later, then." Bart shrugged. Jaime nodded in agreement, and they continued their work.

x

"Tim?" Bart asked as he knocked on the doorway. The door itself was open, but the action was caused by years of having manners drilled into his brain- that he should always knock before entering.

"Oh, hey Bart." Tim said, looking up from a fat book that he was reading.

"I just wanted to say thanks for not leaving me stranded on the cold floor yesterday night." Bart replied.

He could see Tim start to form a blush on his cheeks, but for his sake, Bart pretended like he didn't notice.

"Oh." Tim said simply, "You're welcome. It was no big deal."

"Nothing wrong with being nice, Tim." Bart teased, then began to leave, "See you later."

"See ya."

When Bart left, all he could do was grin.

Because it was truly amazing how much people could change for the better in such a short amount of time.

 **MONDAY, DECEMBER 18TH**

"Hey, Jaime." Bart says as he enters the room. Jaime doesn't look up, focused specifically on a drawing of a character he made up, which was called Vandal Savage.

"Hola." he greeted simply.

Bart crawls onto his bed, peering over his shoulder. Jaime continues to draw.

"Jaime, I've thought about it." Bart begins to talk and rubs Jaime's shoulders.

"Thought about what?" Jaime asked, not pausing the process of drawing.

"I trust you." Bart whispers into his ear, and he begins to shift his hands to Jaime's sides.

"Oh?" Jaime asks, not sure how to react.

Bart nods, and his hair tickles Jaime's ear. He then begins to snake his right arm around Jaime's torso, in which he was still drawing.

"Come on." Bart whines, "Put the sketchbook away."

"I'm almost done." Jaime insists.

Bart frowns, "I don't care." he grumbles, then shifts himself, "I'm horny and I want you to fuck me, Jaime."

Cue the instant boner. Jaime discontinues drawing, and tenses up. He can feel his heart beating fast in his ears.

"There we go." Bart purrs, seeing the hard-on. "Let's do it. Right here, right now."

"We can't." Jaime says, still too tense. It was too early in the day, too busy, and they could get caught very easily.

"Why not?" Bart whines.

Jaime can't help but feel bad for him. Though they weren't too far apart in age, Bart was still a fifteen year old, and definitely a lot more prone to sudden hormonal urges than Jaime.

"Too many people. And we don't have anything to, uh, make it smooth." Jaime explains. He curses himself. If they were somewhere private with the proper supplies, he knew at this point he'd already be naked.

"I can find something." Bart promises, "And if not, we can use spit."

"Bart, no. I want to, but we can't." Jaime asserts.

Bart sighs in defeat. "One day." he grumbled.

"One day." Jaime promised, then stopped tensing. "So, you trust me?" he asked.

"With my life. Literally. Because, you know." Bart chuckles.

It's a stupid joke, but Jaime grins.

 **WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 19TH**

"Are you a virgin, too?" Bart asks the next day, and Jaime feels stupid for not expecting the question. He pauses the drawing he was still working on the previous day, and sighs.

"No."

Bart sounds surprised. "Really?"

"Well, it was just dumb, that's all." Jaime insisted.

"What's the story? If you don't mind me asking."

Jaime laughs, and he doesn't know why. "Oh god. Okay. So there was this huge meth-head. I don't know how old she was. She was probably only like, eighteen, but she looked older because of the meth. She went to me to buy some meth- _of course-_ and realized she didn't give me enough money, so she offered to blow me instead. I was sixteen and curious what it was like so I said yes. And she did."

"How long did that last?" Bart chuckles.

"Probably like, three seconds. I'm not gonna lie, Bart. I'm still inexperienced, I probably won't last long when we- yeah." he explained. Bart nodded in understanding.

"We'll work on it." he promised, flashing Jaime a grin.

Jaime has to look back down at his paper in hopes Bart wouldn't notice him turning red.

 **THURSDAY, DECEMBER 21ST**

For twenty years, it's been a tradition to go out for dinner every Thursday before Christmas. No breaking it now.

The sun was starting to set, and the elderly Kents made their way into the small restaurant in Keystone. The waitress smiled as she greeted them, guiding them to a seat and sitting them down. They began to order their food, usually the same stuff they ordered every year.

"I hope the kids are okay." Mrs. Kent mumbled as the waitress left after taking their drinks.

"Martha." Mr. Kent scolded playfully, "This is your first time going out in sixth months! They're not children, either. They're fine; we've only been gone for an hour and already you're worrying."

"I guess you're right." Mrs. Kent agreed, and thanked the waitress quickly as she dropped off their drinks.

"Is that who I think it is?" a cheerful voice came from the distance. The Kents snapped their heads back to face Dinah Queen, whose face lit up with a subtle brightness.

"Dinah?" Mr. Kent asked, obviously surprised.

"Oh my gosh!" Dinah said, standing up and walking towards them, "How's Roy? I haven't seen him in forever."

"He's doing okay." Mrs. Kent nodded, "But what are you doing here, too?"

"Well, it's been five years today." and Dinah let out a small frown.

"Oh my- Dinah, I'm so sorry. I knew it was somewhere in December, I didn't know it was today." Mrs. Kent apologized.

"No, it's fine." Dinah reassured, "It took me five years to realize Ollie wouldn't want me to be lying around and be miserable. I look like I've aged twenty years." she sighed, "I decided I'm taking my life back today."

"That's great!" Mr. Kent commented.

"Which is why I want to ask you something." Dinah continued.

"Hmm?" the couple asked curiously.

"I'm throwing a New Year's Eve party. Eight p.m. to two a.m. I would really appreciate it if you two came." she finished.

Both of the Kents stared at each other, a nervous look reflecting off each face.

"Can you excuse us for a moment?" Mrs. Kent requested, and Dinah nodded.

The Kents walked off, and began to quietly talk.

"So what do you think? Should we go?" Mr. Kent asked.

"I don't know. I don't want to leave the kids alone." Mrs. Kent admitted.

"Again, Martha, they're hardly kids. They'll be fine." Mr. Kent insisted.

"Bart almost died only the other day, Johnathan." Mrs. Kent countered, "I don't want anything happening to them when we're not around."

"I wasn't the one to save Bart, Jaime was. And I trust Roy and Conner to take charge if necessary." Mr. Kent replied.

"But-"

"The woman lost _her husband,_ Martha! The least we can do is show her some respect and sympathy."

Martha sighed, but finally nodded, "Okay." she said, "We'll go."

 **FRIDAY, DECEMBER 22ND**

"What are you getting me for Christmas?"

"I'm supposed to get you something?"

"Well, yeah, I guess." Dick shrugged, lighting up a blunt.

"I don't think I'm getting anybody anything." Jaime admitted.

"Not even your boyfriend? Shame, dude." Dick commented.

 _"He's not my boyfriend."_ Jaime quickly responded, not realizing how quickly the words stumbled out of his mouth.

"Wait, what?" Dick asked, clearly confused, "Then what the fuck is he?"

"I- I don't know." Jaime admitted. He never thought of Bart as his boyfriend. He never called Bart his boyfriend, and it just seemed strange to consider him that.

"Are you two just fucking then? How is he not your boyfriend?" Dick continued to ask.

"No, I mean, I really do like him romantically, but it's just, I don't know. I never really called him my boyfriend, that's all." Jaime responded.

"Well, no shit. Unless you told somebody else, I'm the only one who knows about this." Dick took another hit.

"Yeah, you're the only one who knows. And Bart knows you know." Jaime responded, though his mind began to trail off. Should he tell the rest of the house? But why would he want to? Yeah, it was becoming more and more difficult to keep it a secret, especially as the nights passed and Jaime wanted to do more than just make-out and suck each others necks, but it was too risky. For now, at least. And if the Kents found out, he highly doubted they'd allow them to share a room.

Two nights ago, especially, Jaime was feeling extremely horny, for some odd reason. Bart could tell because Jaime practically threw off his shirt as soon as he entered the room. One thing led to another, and Bart knew they should stop, because they were starting to get loud. Jaime didn't want to, even though the voice in the back of his head screamed at him to discontinue.

 _"Jaime, there's like, nine fucking people in this house."_ Bart finally whispered, dragging Jaime back into reality, _"We have to stop."_

Jaime was frustrated, though he agreed, and they ended it there. Jaime was sure they were going to get further that night, but the disapproving look of Mr. Kent filled his mind, and he put his shirt back on.

Boy, was _that_ frustrating.

 **SUNDAY, DECEMBER 24TH**

"Merry Christmas, cariño." Jaime said as he handed the paper to Bart.

"It's Christmas Eve." Bart pointed out, but still took the paper anyways, inspecting it, "Oh shit! Is this the drawing?"

"Yep. And I always liked Christmas Eve better." Jaime explained, "Like it?" he asked.

It was of Blue and Kid Flash on the battlefield. Blue Beetle had a plasma cannon activated, and he was in a fighting pose along with KF, whose fists were clenched. He also looked ready to run- well, of course he did. He was a speedster. He had some tears in his costume, too. Shadows loomed in front of the two, symbolizing that they were about to fight many enemies.

"Love it. Maybe we'll be that bad ass one day." he grinned, and was just about to kiss Jaime when Mrs. Kent called them from downstairs for to eat.

"Whoops. Not enough time. See you at dinner." and he sped off.

 _"Seriously?"_ Jaime called out as Bart left the room and entered the hallway.

"Dude! She's made _lasagna!"_ Bart called back, and Jaime could hear his footsteps shuffle down the staircase.

Jaime couldn't help but laugh.

x

The snow was howling outside and it created a frost over the window, but Jaime and Bart were cozy. It was a stereotypical Christmas Eve situation; the two were holding their own cups of hot chocolate, resting up against each other on Jaime's bed, watching _A Goofy Movie._ The screen of the old T.V. and the warm-colored lamp on Jaime's nightstand were the only things that gave off light in the room.

The situation was perfect. Now, more than ever, was Bart glad that he decided to run off with Jaime, Bart, and Cassie on that September night. He smiled at the thought as he sipped his hot chocolate.

He knew his life would be better if he ran away. He never knew it'd be as great as this.

"I love you."

For a second, Jaime didn't respond, most likely from the shock. But then, a smile began to creep its way around his face, and he spoke four simple words in response.

"I love you, too."

* * *

 **A/N: Writing this one made my empty soul feel fuzzy... and holy damn, that's a lot of words (compared to the regular chapters, at least.)**

 **I noted I should probably move this up to an "M" rating after writing a few more chapters and realizing "oh hoh hoooh that's not safe work now, is it?".. hence the reason why I replaced the "T". Nothing will be _too_ graphic, I promise.**

 **A/N (2) 5/17/16: Just realized I fucked up some of the dates, I've fixed that though, so it's all good.**


	13. Chapter 13

**WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER:**

 **-(moderate) sexual content**

* * *

 **MONDAY, DECEMBER 25TH**

It was the best Christmas Bart had in years.

It started off with an awesome surprise breakfast all three Kents had prepared the previous night as a gift to them, then proceeded to become a day off. Mr. Kent played Christmas tunes on his old radio while everyone relaxed in the living room afterwards, engaging in an interesting conversation about peanut-butter and how it worked. After that, they decided to go outside, all geared up for winter, and played in the snow.

Yep. Played in the snow. They were fifteen through twenty-four years old, but they decided to play in the snow like a bunch of children. But Bart loved it. They split into two teams for a snowball fight. Cassie, Jaime, Roy, and Conner on the first team, while Tim, Bart, and Dick decided they could battle with only three members.

Bart smirked at the thought of perhaps finally getting the chance to win something. Jaime always won their wrestling matches- of course, because he was stronger. But Bart was _faster._ And Jaime would never be able to dodge the snowballs that he threw at him, and Bart would be able to evade nearly every one thrown at him. He hoped his teammates held the same skills.

Years of dodge-ball in elementary school have prepared him for this moment.

They took five minutes to build their wall and prepare snowballs, then it had begun.

The first few snowballs were barely thrown over each side, before the three decided to charge at different angles, Tim taking the right side, Dick taking the middle, and Bart taking the left side, each with many snowballs in their hands. They let out their battle cries, and Bart swooped behind the enemy lines, viciously throwing his snowballs as if they were ninja stars. Roy let out a cry of surprise as one made contact with his back, though Bart wasn't done.

 _Target acquired.  
_  
The snowball swiftly soared through the air and swiftly made impact upon Roy's face, knocking him back into the snow.

Bart barely managed to avoid the strong throw of Cassie, and some of his snowballs spilled out of his hands during the process of dodging it. He struck back, but she avoided as well, and threw one of her own. Bart was able to spin and dodge it, and during the process of spinning, grabbed his own snowball, turning back around, he threw it at Cassie, and it landed on her face as well. She stumbled backwards, dazed and confused. She couldn't attempt vengeance on Bart, however, because Tim was ambushing her, and Bart laughed at the sight. He then felt several hit his back, and he fell forward, dropping his snowballs in the process, and destroying them as he landed on them.

He stood up and turned around, but was greeted with a snowball to the face. He fell on his back this time, looking up into the sky. He could feel footsteps approaching him, and he quickly formed a snowball and hid it by his side before he could see his attacker.

 _"You."_ he hissed, teasingly.

"Me." Jaime acknowledged, holding a few more snowballs, "Ready to feel the rest of my wrath?"

 _"Never!"_

Jaime threw one at his face again, and Bart coughed. He felt Jaime's weight on his waist, and he found himself staring into Jaime's eyes rather than the sky.

"Do you give in?" he asked, trying to keep a neutral face, though it was obvious he was cracking up.

"No!" Bart insisted, _"Never give up, never surrender!"_ he took his snow ball and slammed it against Jaime's face, a yelp of surprise coming from the other teen. He had enough time to slip out from underneath him, and jumped on his back, and Jaime stood up, barely able to balance with the weight of Bart on him. Bart wrapped his legs around his waist and his arms around his neck, trying to pull him back. Dick took the opportunity to launch snowballs at Jaime, and he let out noises that sounded like a mix of cries and laughter as he was covered in snowballs. He finally fell over on his side, and Bart got off of him.

 _"I win."_ he whispered.

 _"I-I will get my revenge!"_ Jaime responded dramatically like they do in the movies, _"This war is not over!"_

"Seems like we already won, buddy." Dick commented casually, "The rest of your teammates already gave up."

"Aw, seriously?" Jaime asked, sitting up.

"Yeah."

"Damn."

"We're going inside for hot chocolate, come on, you abusive lovebirds." Dick responded, beginning to walk off. Bart helped Jaime up from the snow.

 _"'Abusive lovebirds'?"_ Jaime laughed as they walked.

"I dunno. I think it sounds kind of cool." Bart commented, "I reminds me of that one Rihanna song with Eminem from like seven years ago."

"What the fuck, Bart?" Jaime laughed, "Come on, I'll race you back."

"I'll win."

"I know."

"You still wanna race?"

"Totally."

 **SUNDAY, DECEMBER 31ST**

The rest of the week passed by relatively quickly, and the elderly Kents were preparing to leave to go to their friend's New Year's Eve party.

"Roy," Mr. Kent turned to the redhead, "Dinah would really appreciate it if you'd-"

"No." Roy shook his head, "It's just too... I don't know. Seeing her will bring back too many memories."

Dick raised an eyebrow and frowned as well in the process, knowing all-to-well what happened to his friend five years ago. He lost his adoptive father, who married Dinah three years before his death. The loss of his dad made him decide he wanted to leave town, and he met the Kents, and they agreed to allow him to live with them in exchange for farm work. He had a phone during all of this time, but it was an old flip phone that he paid for monthly. He was seriously considering cancelling it, as anyone barely called or texted him. It wasn't until the night that he received a call from Dick's phone that he was glad he didn't.

* * *

"Dick?" he asked curiously. Occasionally, the stoner would call him super high, usually to invite him to come over and smoke. Sometimes, Roy would say yes and spend the night there as well. But that was only once every two-or-so months. "Look, I really can't smoke with you-"

"Tim." the voice on the other side confirmed, which sounded completely sober.

Roy knew Tim; he was Dick's little brother. Or, former foster brother, at least. The one who sometimes spent the night at Dick's place if he wasn't at his foster home. Dick told a few tales of him and his friends selling drugs on the streets, and one time, Roy, Dick, and Tim all got together and smoked and drank.

 _Oh, boy. That was fun._

"Roy. Are you here?" the now impatient voice of Tim asked.

"Oh, right. Sorry. I was daydreaming. What's up?" Roy asked.

"Look, my buddies and I have gotten into serious trouble. Dick said you lived on this farm place, and I was wondering if you could help us get there to be safe." Tim explained.

The request threw Roy off. He wasn't exactly sure if the Kents would be okay with that. He talked with Tim for some more time before deciding to end the call, and afterwards, engaged in a conversation with the two elderly Kents, explaining the whole situation, while their grandson, Conner, sat in the corner, watching intently, as if he were a cat on a hunt. He didn't exactly talk much, and barely acknowledged Roy's existence. Roy didn't really care, though, because he was able to do most of the farm work on his own.

"They're going to be willing to work, correct?" Mr. Kent asked.

"Yes." Roy nodded in confirmation.

"Well, I'm not exactly the type to take in criminals, but if selling drugs is the worst they've done, I'm not too worried. And we can always use extra help at the farm." Mr. Kent replied. Mrs. Kent nodded in agreement.

Once the conversation was over, Roy had rung up Tim once again.

"Hey, dude. Have you and your friends be ready by tomorrow morning. Where do you want me to pull up?"

x

"Look, Conner." Roy began to talk to the teenage boy who refused to look him in the eyes, "They're good people, I swear."

"This is my farm, not your's." Conner muttered, and folded his arms over his chest.

"But I live here, too." Roy countered, "Look," he repeated, "I'll pretend like I'm a guest and that I haven't visited in a while if that makes you happy. Just because they're drug dealers doesn't mean they're _necessarily_ bad- I just want them to feel comfortable and welcome here. Can you do that for me? Causing more conflict won't help anybody."

Conner stared at the ground for a few moments, before silently nodding.

"Great. I have to go pick them up." Roy grabbed his keys off of the table, "Oh, and by the way, we might have to start sharing a room."

 _"Wait, what?"_ Conner looked back up at him, but Roy was already out of the door.

* * *

"Okay." Mr. Kent nodded in respect, "We'll see you guys later. Stay safe, please."

They exited through the front door.

"Time to turn up the fuckin' music!" Dick suddenly announced, breaking the quiet ambiance. He pulled out an old radio that was in the coat closet, and put a random C.D. in it. Roy left to grab the drinks.

"So, you guys. Any New Year's resolutions?" Tim asked as he approached Bart and Jaime, who were sitting on the couch.

"Nope." Jaime responded blandly, and Bart thought upon the question for a few moments.

"Nah. I got nothing either."

"Well, that makes three of us." Tim chuckled, sitting down next to them, looking at Cassie, who was talking to Dick and Conner about something, "Kents are gone. I'm hoping Cassie and I will get lucky tonight."

Jaime could feel the heat on the tip of his ears, and Bart let out an "Oh."

"What are you guys, twelve?" Tim teased them and turned to them, a smirk plastered upon his face.

"No. It's just. Yeah, the Kents _are gone."_ Jaime acknowledged, and he looked at Bart, a small smile creeping its way onto his face.

"Then quit acting so uptight about it, dude. Come on. It's time to party. Let's go get some drinks." Tim insisted, leading the other two to the kitchen, where Roy was.

x

"I call this game, _'How Far Can We Go Without Vaseline?'_ " Bart said as he closed the door behind him.

"I _really_ want to fuck you, though." Jaime bluntly stated, half due to his raging hormones, the other half due to being tipsy.

"I know... you're acting as if I _don't_ want that, Blue." Bart smirked. Jaime seemed to be setback, but nodded. Bart didn't know how (as they were just by the door a second ago), but he and Jaime suddenly fell onto the bed, and a making out session engaged.

Everything was blurry for Bart, and things seemed to be moving timelessly. He was already hard, trapped in a horny daze, and he didn't want to stop. Not while they had the chance right here.

He didn't even realize he was completely naked until he felt cold air wash over his body. Upon further inspection, he found out Jaime was naked as well. The cold disappeared as Jaime placed himself on top of Bart. The heat was comforting and reassuring, oddly relaxing.

Their breaths were ragged and quick, and it suddenly dawned upon Bart that they were about to have sex. Maybe not full-on penetrative sex, but _sex_. _Holy shit. He and Jaime were about to have sex._

"So how far do you want to go?" Jaime asked, his voice husky.

"As far as possible. _Please."_ Bart begged, though he knew he didn't need to.

"Hmm... third base sound good?" Jaime asked.

For a second, Bart wondered why Jaime was talking about baseball, then realize what he was _really_ talking about. He nodded, and he could feel the sweat on his forehead, which was odd, because he was freezing just about a minute ago.

Things had gotten hot. _Fast._

Bart didn't get much time to think about it, though, because Jaime had cut him off with a kiss.

x

"How was it?" Dick asked as they sat in the corner of the living room as he lit up his umpteenth joint. It would only be about thirty minutes before the new year, and Dick took the challenge to smoke as much weed before it as possible.

"How was what?" Jaime asked, taking the lighter after him.

"The sex." Dick said casually, taking a hit, then flicking his joint.

 _"The sex?_ " Jaime asks, and even in his drunken state, he began to panic, and his stomach dropped. "Ah, _shit._ We weren't loud, were we?"

"No, I just kind of figured." Dick admitted, "How far'd you go?"

"Uh..." Jaime shifted uncomfortably.

"Since when was Jaime Reyes a _prude?_ Especially _drunk_ Jaime?" Dick challenged.

Jaime was annoyed by Dick's questions, though he did calm down. "We had the... uh... _you know_... sucking and shit like that."

"Oh?" Dick asked, then dropped his joint in surprise, _"Oh!"_ He stood up, _"Oh... shit! Holy fuck!"_ he began to laugh, "Gimme five, dude!" and he held out his hand.

The rest of the household turned their heads looked at them with perplexed faces.

"Sorry. Ignore us." Dick apologized, and then proceeded to high-five with Jaime while the others went back to doing their own thing.

"You know, it'll only be about twenty-five minutes till next year." Dick said as he looked at the clock on the wall, "You and Bart should kiss at midnight; come out to everyone that way."

"God, no." Jaime shook his head, "I don't want anyone to find out."

A hint of disappointment shone upon Dick's face, though he said, "I mean, yeah. I guess I understand." he then smirked, "I'ma kiss Roy."

 _"What?"_ Jaime laughed, "Why?"

Dick shrugged, "To piss him off."

"Perfectly legitimate reasoning." Jaime rolled his eyes.

"In the world of Dick Grayson, that is perfectly legitimate reasoning." Dick responded.

Jaime couldn't help but laugh again.

 **MONDAY, JANUARY 1ST**

Dick did as promised.

And Roy freaked out while the rest of the household burst into fits of laughter.

"Agh, Dick, you're so _fucking gross!_ " Roy spat onto the floor, _"Fuck you,_ man!"

Dick just snickered.

"God, you taste like weed." Roy mumbled.

"I'll take that as a compliment." Dick responded.

Roy mumbled again, "I'm going to bed."

"Goodnight, honey." Dick teased. Roy flipped him the bird before going up the stairs, causing another roar of laughter from the household.

The rest of the night continued casually, until around one in the morning, Bart could see the headlights of Mr. Kent's car shine outside the window, and quickly, they stuffed all of the bottles under the couch and sprayed air freshener in an attempt to get rid of the smell of weed. The Kents entered the house, and ordered everyone off to bed within a minute.

"So it's a new year." Bart said as he burrowed himself into Jaime's chest.

"Yep." Jaime said, "But I don't think much is going to change."

"Yeah." Bart agreed, "I just can't believe it's a new year again. Time's going too fast, and I feel old."

"You're fifteen!" Jaime laughed.

"Oh, I guess I am." Bart chuckled, "Whatever. I just feel old. If I was a dog, I'd be old."

"But you're not a dog." Jaime chuckled.

"Yep, I guess you're right." Bart acknowledged, "It'd be cool to be a dog at least once, though. Like just imagine it."

"Go to bed, Bart." Jaime insisted, "I don't know what you smoked, but you need to go to bed."

"Alright." Bart laughed, "G'night, Jaime."

"'Night, Bart."

x

The hangovers that resulted from the previous night and the discovery of the hidden bottles were enough evidence to the elderly Kents that they had partied.

"Living here is a privilege." Mr. Kent reminded as he lectured the teens in which he sat them down on the couch, "If you're going to be messing around, then we have no point in keeping you guys around."

"Sorry." the voices of the younger people spoke in near unison.

Bart seemed to be fidgeting, however. His foot would not stop tapping against the floor, and Jaime had to place his hand on Bart's leg to make him realize he was doing it. Bart flinched somewhat at the unexpected contact, but then relaxed, slightly embarrassed.

"Is something bothering you, Bart?" Mrs. Kent asked, raising an eyebrow.

 _"Ijusthaveaquestion."_ he replied far too quickly for anybody to pick up on.

"Huh?" Mrs. Kent responded, raising her eyebrow even higher.

"I need to ask something." Bart replied once again.

"What is the question?"

"Well, I mean, you guys would never _turn us in,_ right?" Bart asked, not sure if he wanted to hear an answer.

Mr. Kent shook his head. "No. Only boot you out. It's just if we do that, you'll have a higher chance of getting caught."

Of course. It was obvious.

"I want you all to reflect upon what you did." Mr. Kent continued to lecture, "We already established basic rules a long time ago. No drinking when not given permission," he looked over to Roy, "no smoking inside of the house," he looked over to Dick, "and no sexual activities, under any circumstance." his eyes lastly landed on Tim and Cassie, though Jaime and Bart shifted uncomfortably.

"We're sorry." Conner was the one to speak up this time, even though he didn't do much last night.

"I'll be having a special talk with you, Conner." Mr. Kent warned, and Conner nodded slightly. Roy smirked. "Don't think you're off the hook, Roy."

A few snickers were heard before Mr. Kent looked at all of them once again before finally speaking once again. "You all will be working outside tomorrow."

"But isn't it gonna like, blizzard or something?" Dick piped up.

"Blizzard? No. Snow severely, yes. But unlike your generation, kids in my day got punished when they did bad things." Mr. Kent insisted, "Now get to working on getting the Christmas decorations down."

They began to get off the couches, and Bart and Jaime decided to work on the decorations that were wrapped around the staircase railing while everybody else tackled things down the stairs.

"Not a good way to start off the new year, huh?" Bart commented as he removed the end of a ribbon and began unraveling it.

Jaime shrugged as he plucked off some ornaments, "Eh, new years are always shitty."

Bart thought about it for sometime as they worked in silence. The silence wasn't uncomfortable, more peaceful than anything. It was reassuring, knowing he could be around Jaime and not feel the need to constantly talk to him to fill an awkward void. But still, he thought about it. Last year, he was full of hope for the new year, but he wasn't exactly positive. So yeah. Last year's new year was way worse than this year's new year.  
 _  
What do I even want this year?_ Bart thought. New Year's resolutions weren't an uncommon thing among people. Bart didn't exactly have one. All he really wanted was convenience. Things were great the way they were- he had Jaime, for starters. He had a house full of relatively cool people, even if working in the snow wasn't the most appealing thing in the world, it was hell of a lot better than taking one big exam at school that could determine whether or not you will have redo four months worth of work.

"Ay, Bar-" Jaime began, but cut himself off. Bart raised an eyebrow, curious as to what Jaime wanted, and why he stopped himself mid-sentence.

He seemed to be looking up the stairs, and Bart looked up in that direction, but he couldn't see anything. He looked back at Jaime, who had dilated eyes and a dropped jaw.

"Jaime?" Bart asked, concern flooding him.

Jaime didn't respond to Bart, he just started to cry. Bart stood frozen like a statue, unsure of how to react. He was simply scared. People didn't just start breaking out crying like that.

"Jaime, are you okay?" Roy asked as he passed nearby, but Jaime didn't respond, and just sat on the stairs, continuing to cry. Roy watched, raising an eyebrow, reflecting the same concerned look that Bart held. Bart knelt down to try and comfort Jaime.

"Hey." he said soothingly, "Let's go upstairs and talk about it, okay?"

"Y-you wouldn't understand." Jaime stuttered.

"Let's go upstairs." Bart repeated, helping him up and then guiding him upwards as if he were an elderly man.

They finally got to the door of their room, and Bart opened it, in which it let out a small squeak. He flickered on the lights, all while tears rolled down Jaime's face.

Right in the center of the room sat a fishing pole, snapped in half.

x

"Can you tell me what's going on?" Bart was starting to get annoyed now. And though he very much loved his boyfriend, Jaime was shaking and mumbling incoherent things in response to questions. They sat on the edge of Jaime's bed, and Jaime couldn't stop staring at the broken fishing pole. Jaime pretty much collapsed at the sight of it, which confused Bart even more. Sure, it was strange, and he was pretty sure the pole was mounted on the wall, but there was no reason to break down crying.

"I haven't told you everything." Jaime admitted.

Bart didn't know how to respond.

How was that even _possible_ by now?

"What?" was the only word he could manage to speak.

Jaime spilled, and explained everything. How he used to see Black Beetle, how he sometimes saw his deceased father, and the whole thing with the fishing pole. "I saw him on the stairs." he finally got to the most recent part, "He was talking to me."

"What did he say?" Bart asked, making soothing circular motion's on Jaime's back.

"I don't wanna talk about it." he muttered.

Bart frowned, "Cm'on, I can't help you if you're not gonna say anything."

"Later, please?" was the question out of Jaime's mouth.

Seeing that he made that request often, Bart nodded in understanding,

"Later."

x

"Whoa, uh, feeling kind of cuddly today, Blue?" Bart asked as he felt Jaime begin to cuddle him. Usually he wouldn't reject the offer to be cuddled, but he was in the middle of a good book that Mrs. Kent had suggested for him to read, and the interruption was unwanted.

Jaime didn't respond, but instead, wrapped his legs around Bart's lap and his arms around his rib cage. The weight on Bart's back caused them to fall backwards on the bed, though Bart didn't really mind it, and continued reading. Jaime looked over his shoulder, reading the words with him.

They sat there for a few minutes before Jaime spoke, and the sudden noise startled Bart.

"I love you."

Bart grinned, "'Course you do. I love you, too."

"No, like. I really love you. Like, really, _really_ love you."

"Ooookay. Same here."

"I'm _serious,_ Bart. I really, really, really love-"

"Jaime, what's going on?" Bart interrupted, getting off of him to sit up.

"I-" Jaime began, then sat up as well, and discontinued to speak.

"Are you going to tell me about what that Black Beetle dude said?" Bart asked.

"I don't know if I want to." Jaime admitted.

"Come on, please." Bart whined like a small child, "It's gonna bug me all night if you don't tell me."

"Fine." Jaime gave in, and took a deep breath, "This is what he told me."

What Jaime said next made Bart's heart sink.  
 _  
_" _'Count your blessings, Jaime Reyes. The clock is ticking.'"_

* * *

 **A/N: Hiatus! Sorry, but I'm releasing chapters faster than I can write them.**

 **I'm still actively working on this story. I need to do a lot of stuff to chapter 14 and finish chapter 15, but I can't be consistent with uploads unless I have the rest of the story completed. I can't garuntee when I'll start releasing weekly chapters again, but the entire story should be finished and uploaded before the year ends.**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Finally hauled my ass into overtime and finished this story. I'm very excited and happy to be releasing weekly chapters again!**

 **WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER:**

 **-just more sexual stuff tbh**

* * *

 **TUESDAY, JANUARY 2ND**

 _"'Count your blessings, Jaime Reyes. The clock is ticking.'"_

The two sentences couldn't exit Bart's mind, no matter how hard he tried to get rid of them.

They made him sick to his stomach, and he could feel the bile begin to form in the back of his throat every time he thought about them extensively. Even as he worked his way through the freezing snow that numbed basically every part of his body, and not being able to afford different thoughts in his head, it still pried its way in.

He shouldn't be focusing on this right now. The main priority was to get the job done and go inside so he could warm up. Not to think about some fictional character making his way into Jaime's mind.

It had to be fake. There was no way it was real. Jaime was simply mentally unstable, perhaps schizophrenic, and experiencing hallucinations. Bart didn't see Black Beetle after all. It was just in Jaime's head.

Still, it bugged him. What did those sentences even _mean?_ Would the Kents catch them in an act? Would one of them die? Would they have a horrible breakup?

What would happen to end the happiness that they currently held?

"Bart, hurry up!" Roy yelled from the distance, and Bart was barely able to hear his voice over the howling wind. He shook his head, trying once again to focus on his work.

God, it was _way_ too early in the year for this shit.

x

"Nothing's going to happen."

"I've been trying to convince myself that, Bart." Jaime responded as began to color in a picture of the Hulk, with Bart peering over his shoulder whilst giving him a massage at the same time. Despite his best efforts, Jaime still seemed pretty tense. He paused his coloring. "I'm scared."

"I know. I'm scared, too." Bart sighed, snuggling up close to Jaime to try and feel safe.

"I don't want to lose you." Jaime could feel his eyes watering, and he tried to blink the potential tears away.

"You won't." Bart tried to reassure, "Nothing's going to happen." he repeated, and shifted himself so he could kiss Jaime in a comfortable position.

The door swung open, and they quickly parted, snapping their heads to the door to see who it was.

"Damn, looks like I walked in on something. If you guys were gonna fuck, you could have put a 'Do Not Disturb' sign on the door." Dick rolled his eyes, shutting the squeaky door behind him.

Jaime couldn't help but laugh in relief, "What's up, Dick? Has Roy forgiven you yet?"

"Not much. And yeah. Guy can't stay mad at me, that's for sure." he sat down on Bart's bed, looking over at them, a grin forming on his face. "You two are some adorable motherfuckers."

Bart rolled his eyes yet smiled, "Why are you here?"

"I'm bored."

"Ah, okay. Well, you can watch a movie with us, I guess." Jaime proposed. Sometimes Tim and Cassie would join them on movie watching, but Dick never seemed to take an interest in it.

"What movies you got?" Dick asked.

"All kids' movies. But we've watched them so many times by now we might as well know each line in all of them by heart." Bart chuckled.

Dick looked through the selection before finally deciding to pop in a Pokemon film. Bart watched the movie from behind Jaime while continuously massaging him, and Jaime decided to draw a Pikachu in the spirit of the movie.

Things were fine. Things were normal.

Nothing bad would happen.

* * *

"Lift up your shirt." he demanded.

 _"Wha-what?"_ Bart asked in surprise and confusion, and he flushed, "Why?"

"We need to make sure you don't have a wire on you. Now lift up your shirt." Jaime commanded in a more intense tone.

Bart did, to prove to the three that he was not an undercover cop.

Feeling satisfied, the Hispanic teen seemed to relax. Bart began to hand Tim the money, and in return, Tim handed him the pot. Bart gave them a simple "Thanks." before turning around and leaving.

"Dumbass." Tim scoffed, feeling the dollar bills between his fingers. "You ever think he'll find out he paid way too much?" he turned to Cassie and Jaime in hopes for a response.

"Nah." Jaime shook his head. "C'mon now, let's go home."

x

"You're really willing to pay that much for ecstasy?" Jaime asked when Bart caught him by the shoulder before leaving school that day.

Bart nodded.

"Alright then, hermano. Usual spot on Friday?"

"'Course." Bart smiled, and Jaime shot him a confused look. How'd the kid even get himself involved with drugs in the first place? For such a goody-two shoes, it was surprising. But Jaime shrugged it off. So what? Bart was a customer now, giving him good money. He watched the green-eyed boy walk away, and he smiled. Bart really seemed to be lacking some serious sense, paying so much. Or maybe he just didn't want to piss Jaime off. Who knew? If that was the case, Jaime wished all of their customers could have that mentality.

But, that was the thing. Bart was just another customer, getting more and more. That's what Bart was to Jaime, and that's what he'd always be. Jaime went home, not thinking a second thought about thought about the boy.

* * *

Jaime woke up, gasping, even though the dream he had technically wasn't a nightmare.

"Something wrong?" Bart mumbled, obviously torn out of his sleep as well. He sat up, looking at Jaime with tired emerald eyes.

"N-no, I was just startled out of my sleep. Not a nightmare. Go back to sleep, amor." Jaime insisted.

"Mmm, okay." Bart continued to mumble, and fell back down on the bed in a tired daze. He fell asleep almost instantly. Jaime smiled, laying back down as well, holding his lover in close.

He couldn't help but think about how terrifying it'd be to see Bart as just another customer of his.

And the scariest part was that it could've easily been a reality.

 **WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 3RD**

"A7."

"Miss."

"Dammit."

Bart chuckled as Tim grabbed another white piece and placed it on his side of the game's set. So far, Bart was winning by a long shot, and it _totally wasn't_ because he sneaked a look as to where Tim's battleships were when he left to use the bathroom.

A few more minutes passed before Bart could officially declare himself the winner.

"As loser, you have to clean the game up." Bart announced as if he were a king. Tim rolled his eyes, but obliged.

"As winner, you must make me hot chocolate." he said during the process of cleaning up, and Bart shrugged. He grabbed a couple of packets from the pantry and a pan. He opened the packets, dropping the contents into the pan before pouring milk in the pan, then turning on the stove, looking out of the window. It was completely covered in frost, and the howling wind was loud enough to hear upon miles.

It was too cold to go outside by now. Everyone was practically barricaded inside of the house, but they took turns going to the barn to take care of the animals.

Bart could feel hands wrap around his waist, and at first he was alarmed, thinking it was Tim. He then relaxed, chuckling a bit.

"What scared you?" Jaime asked, looking at the contents in the pan.

"Thought you were Tim for a second." Bart chuckled while he stirred them.

"Oh, boy." Jaime chuckled back, then froze, "Wait, shit, he's in here." he quickly separated himself from Bart and looked over to Tim, who was still busy cleaning up _Battleship,_ too preoccupied with the task to notice them.

Bart could feel the heat begin to tint his cheeks. He kept forgetting the only person they were out to was Dick. _Thank god_ it was him and not anybody else that entered their bedroom yesterday. "Oh, and by the way," he began to say, and Jaime's head turned back to him, "I'm only making enough for me and Tim."

"You meany-head!" Jaime pouted teasingly, then hit him playfully and laughed, "Whatever. I have to go to the bathroom. I'll see you in three minutes."

"Is that how long it takes you to get yourself off?" Bart shouted across the kitchen as Jaime exited. A quick and loud laugh was heard from Jaime before he entered the bathroom.

The hot chocolate finished, and Bart poured them into two bright yellow mugs, handing one to Tim, who gladly accepted.

"You and Jaime seem to be best friends." Tim commented as Bart sat down.

Bart shrugged in response, "At least we get along now."

"Yeah." Tim nodded, and smiled. Bart smiled back. He was especially glad he could get along with Tim, as they hadn't been on the best terms when first arriving. But it's been almost four months since that event happened, and things were different now.

Things were a _lot_ different now.

* * *

 **APRIL 2017**

"I'm gay." the words came tumbling out of Bart's mouth.

 _No._ He wasn't supposed to come out like that. He just wanted to tell Wally he wasn't interested in having a girlfriend right now. He didn't mean that-

Wally stopped running and turned to look at Bart. He wanted nothing but to shrivel up and disappear. He couldn't meet Wally's eyes. He could hear Wally catching his breath after running, and the birds chirping near the treeline they were jogging by.

"You're pretty masculine for a gay dude." Wally commented. Bart finally looked at him, and frowned. "Sorry."

"It's okay." Bart forgave him.

There was a silence between them, and the birds kept chirping.

"You're not going to tell my mom and dad, are you?" Bart asked.

"They don't know?"

"I don't _want_ them to know."

"Well then. No, not at all." Wally shook his head.

Bart took this as a good sign. Wally didn't seem all too upset by the news, and overall just didn't really care.

"I have a secret, too." Wally admitted.

This intrigued Bart more than it should. "Oh? What is it?"

Wally grinned, "Secretly, I vote democrat during elections."

Bart laughed, and Wally laughed along. With that, they continued to run by the treeline.

Things were normal, just like they should be.

* * *

 **THURSDAY, JANUARY 4TH**

"It's my turn?" Jaime grumbled. The snow wasn't letting up, and it was kind of annoying. In fact, it seemed to be only getting worse.

Mr. Kent nodded.

"I'll go with him." Bart volunteered from behind him.

"Okay." Mr. Kent nodded once again, "Don't take too long, I think there's gonna be a big blizzard coming within the hour."

The teens nodded, grabbing the appropriate supplies to go out to the barn, not bothering to put on coats or snow pants. They trudged out into the snow, and swung open the barn doors. It had some sort of heating, as it was much warmer than the outside. Yet again, it may have been the lack of wind inside the barn that made it seem warmer.

"We'll start off with the cow-" Jaime began, but was cut off as Bart jumped up on him and started kissing him. In surprise, Jaime dropped his supplies onto the floor. He was slightly annoyed that Bart didn't warn him beforehand, but it didn't matter now. A sudden rush of hormones filled him, and he kissed back. It was hard, wet, hungry, and heavy. They pulled away for breath, and he looked at Bart's lips. They are already swollen, and they've only been making out for what, a minute now? Maybe a minute and a half. Jaime grabbed the hem of Bart's shirt and began to roll it off, until it was completely removed from him. He then discarded it onto the floor, letting his hands move across Bart's warm body. He knows Bart wants him to take off his shirt, too, but Jaime's not in a rush.

They fall to the floor. Jaime's not sure when, but he straddles Bart and starts planting kisses in whatever area he can- neck, torso, shoulders. He can feel Bart shudder with each one, and Jaime noticed he was growing more and more excited every time he made one.

"Want me to take care of that, Blue?" he hears Bart say. That _fucking_ nickname. Jaime can't help but secretly love it.

Jaime simply nods.

"Take off your shirt, then."

Fair deal.

Jaime takes off his shirt slowly, so he can allow Bart to take in the sight. He always acts like it's his first time seeing Jaime shirtless every time Jaime took them off. It was ridiculously funny, yet arousing. He tossed it aside soon after, and could feel Bart tugging at his pants. He looked over, and judging by the bulge in his pants, he was definitely hard. Maybe Jaime could take care of that soon after.

He can recall him and Bart having sex once before, it was on New Year's Eve, so it was only a few days ago. He was too drunk to remember exactly what went down, but he remembers having fun.

God, this was just so wrong. But as he felt Bart around his shaft, he suddenly didn't care anymore.

It ended faster than he'd like to admit. He was embarrassed because he knew he probably lasted longer when he was _drunk_ for crying out loud, but Bart didn't seem to give him a hard time about it. They had talked about this before- being inexperienced and all. Jaime was about to do his favor in return, but then heard the barn door begin to creak open.

He had never put his shirt back on so quickly in his life. Bart was even faster. They stood up, acting like nothing happened.

"Oh hey, Mr. Kent. Hey Roy." Bart greeted, and Jaime winced as he saw Bart trying to hide his obvious boner.

"What is taking you two so long? Have you even got anything done?" Mr. Kent demanded as he and Roy began to approach them.

"We, uh, decided that the weather was getting too bad and didn't want to go back out into the blizzard." Jaime made up a bullshit excuse, hoping that it would work on the two men like his excuses worked on his mother back when he still lived at home.

"You haven't done anything." Roy pointed to the scattered supplies on the floor, "Quit dicking around and get to it."

Bart began to choke on his own spit, which the other three men stood and watched until he was able to stabilize himself.

"Sorry." he apologized, laughing nervously.

Mr. Kent sighed, "Just hurry up and finish, won't you two?"

x

"We almost got caught today." Bart commented seemingly out of the blue that night as he got into the bed.

"Yeah." Jaime grumbled, "I was scared that they were gonna notice your rock-hard dick."

"Can't help it that you're super fucking hot." Bart laughed. "Can't blame a guy."

"That makes two of us. _Ay, Bart,_ e _res asi que jodido caliente."_ Jaime replied in a husky voice.

"Okay, I have no idea what you just said, but you need to stop with the sexy accent. You're making me hard again." Bart whined.

"Think about your grandma." Jaime suggested.

"Aaand it's gone." Bart replied.

Jaime burst out into laughter.

* * *

"Scatter! They can't catch us if we're separated." Nightwing commanded as the group ran through the woods. Blue Beetle could see him, Robin, and Wonder Girl run off into the opposite direction. A sudden flash of white and red passed him, and he knew Bart was getting away as fast as he could. Jaime knew he couldn't activate his jet pack; it would be too noisy if he did, and the Reach would be able to find him.

So he ran. He could hear the yelling of Reach soldiers behind him, though his thoughts weren't focused on them. He could only wonder if Bart already ran forever away, not bothering to stay back for Jaime. But he knew that didn't happen. The bastard loved him too much to leave him behind.

It was Impulse that the Reach wanted the most. Of course, they wanted Jaime so they could mode him, but they somehow knew that Bart traveled back in time to stop the apocalypse. They wanted to learn his every secret so they could use time travel for their advantage.

Bart was a smart guy. Smart enough to build a _time machine,_ for fucks sake. Jaime kept running, and Khaji Da detected Bart. He was now on stealth mode, so he blended in with the night, but the Reach had plenty of machines to find him regardless. Bart was a smart guy, yes. But not smart enough to run off when he needed to.

"Go." Jaime gasped as he leaned against a tree to catch his breath.

"I'm not leaving you." Bart insisted, "I'll go ahead, but I'm not leaving."

They both then heard the laser beams of the Reach's weapons go off in the distance as well as a cry full of pain from Nightwing. And they both knew that the Reach had caught them. They were the only ones left now, and all they could do at the moment was try to save themselves.

Bart took off before Jaime could even register that he was gone. He then heard him scream, followed by a loud and sharp _snap._

* * *

 **WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 10TH**

"We're getting a dog?" Bart suddenly stopped eating and looked up at Mrs. Kent. She currently held the attention of the table, mostly because it was something new she was talking about, and who didn't love dogs?

"Yes. Our grandson, Clark, his dog Krypto just became a dad." Mrs. Kent explained, "Seven puppies. We could sure use one here at the farm again."

"Again?" Cassie asked.

"We used to have an old collie. Lassie, named after the dog on that T.V. show. Good dog, she was." Mr. Kent explained.

"What kind of dog is Krypto?" Bart turned to him.

"White lab. And the interesting thing is, the mother is half-wolf, half-Alaskan Malamute."

"So the puppies are part wolf?" Conner asked, speaking for the first time in forever.

"A fourth wolf, essentially." Mr. Kent nodded. The table continued conversation, and Bart turned to Jaime, a grin plastered upon his face.

"Hear that, dude? We're getting a dog! Finally!"

Jaime shrugged, "Dogs are okay. I guess we could use one around here."

Bart rolled his eyes and began to talk with the table about the new subject that has been brought up, which was about national parks and the wildlife that was preserved there.

Soon enough, it was time to work again.

* * *

"Wally left a present for you."

Bart looked up from his math homework. It was just a regular Sunday morning, after his cousin Wally left. Meloni handed him the present, which was wrapped in Christmas wrapping paper, despite it being April.

"Do I open it now?" Bart asked.

Meloni shrugged, before returning to washing the dishes. Bart decided to wait until he finished his homework to open it. He grabbed the present and quickly shuffled up into his room, then opened the present. There was a note.

 _Hey Bart,_

 _Sex is awesome. Have fun & stay safe._

 _-Wallman_

Bart removed the tissue paper on top of the present, and could feel his face reddening as he saw what was in the present box. A box of condoms, and perhaps the biggest bottle of lube Wally could manage to find. He then started laughing at the whole situation, and was super glad he didn't open it in front of his mom. Wally was totally cool with him being gay, and even bought him stuff so he could have safe sex.

He shoved the items in his closet. It wasn't like he was going to use them anytime soon. Maybe he could blow up a few of the condoms and turn them into hilarious-looking lube-covered balloons, but he wasn't in the mood to do that right now. He just couldn't stop laughing.

He was blessed to have an amazing cousin like Wally.

* * *

 **SATURDAY, JANUARY 13TH**

"What? I don't believe it! It's a full nine degrees outside!"

Bart looked over to Roy, who was holding a thermometer in which he just brought in from the outdoors.

"Great!" Bart replied enthusiastically. Because it really was great. It had been in the negative temperatures for who knows how long by now, and some positive temperatures were good signs that perhaps things were starting to warm up. His preferred temperature was around sixty-five, but for mid-January, he couldn't really expect that.

"Perhaps I'll be able to get to town soon enough." Mr. Kent commented, placing his now empty cup of coffee in the sink. It was the last dish to be put in there, and it was also Bart's turn to do them. "We need more toothpaste." he added. He and Roy began to have a conversation whilst Bart began to wash the dishes, looking out the window. The sun's rays were melting the frost off, and he managed to get a good view. He could see through the window that Jaime, Tim, and Cassie were hauling things back and forth from the barn, covered head to toe in snow gear.

It felt like winter would never end. Yet again, it felt like spring was just around the corner.

x

The voice- or voices, Jaime couldn't tell- were subtle, he noticed when he woke up that morning.

He couldn't exactly make out what they were saying. They almost seemed hushed or muffled, like they were in the distance.

"Leave me alone." he mumbled. He didn't know what else to say, even if it was irrational.

The door squeaked open, and Jaime could feel his heart jump in his chest. He spun around to see who it was, then relaxed.

"What's up? You look startled." Bart pointed out. Jaime nodded in confirmation.

"I'm hearing voices, Bart." he replied, his brown eyes meeting the other's green ones. Bart frowned.

"What have they been saying?" he asked, leaning against the doorway.

"I don't know. I can't understand them. They're like Sim gibberish." Jaime admitted.

Bart chuckles for a moment, then turns serious. "Jaime, I've been worrying about your mental health for a while now."

"Really?" Jaime asks, cocking an eyebrow. He honestly doesn't know why he's surprised. Having strange dreams, seeing figures, hearing voices- _of course_ Bart would worry.

Bart closes the door behind him and walks over to Jaime, the same frown still plastered upon his face. "Does your family have any history with schizophrenia?" he asks.

The sentence punches Jaime in the face, even though he doesn't want to admit it. Though, it's probably obvious by the expression that overtook him when he registered the question that Bart knew the question had surprised him.

"I mean... mi abuelas- both sides- had it... y el hermano de mi madre... pero yo nunca pensé-"

"Dude, I know some Spanish, but I have no idea what you're saying." Bart crossed his arms.

Jaime didn't realize he broke into a fit of Spanish, and shook his head to try and clear it. "Both of my parent's moms had schizophrenia. And so did my uncle- mom's brother. I assumed since that neither of my parents didn't have it, I'd never get it."

"So your family does." Bart concluded.

"Sí." Jaime nodded.

"Well, I'm no doctor, but it sounds like you have it as well." Bart finally sat down on Jaime's bed.

Jaime looked down to the floor, hands resting in his lap. "How do I deal with it?" he asks, though he knows it's a stupid question. Bart wouldn't know the answer.

"I don't know." Bart responds, just like Jaime predicted. He pulls him into a hug, and tries to comfort Jaime as best as he can.

"It's gonna be okay." he says, and that's really all he can say. He would add a _"We're gonna get you the help you need."_ , but that's the thing- they _wouldn't_ be able to get Jaime the help he needed. Not without the law finding him first.

"It's starting to scare me, Bart." Jaime says, though he feels like he's confessed this a thousand times before. "I'm scared I'll become insane before I know it. You know in like the movies, where they're put in a room with a straight jacket and-"

"Movies are _never_ accurate, Blue." Bart interrupts, though it's for a good reason. "You'll be okay." he says again.

Jaime only nods. Bart separates the hug and plants a quick kiss on his lips before getting off of his bed.

"Oh and by the way, dinner's ready."

 **FRIDAY, JANUARY 15TH**

"This is Wolf." Conner said as he introduced the puppy to the group.

"Aww." Bart cooed, getting onto his knees and petting stroking the puppy. He was a rather mellow dog, happily rolling on his back as Bart gave him a belly rub.

 _T- -og -ially -use- hi- -ize._

 _"Fuck."_ Jaime moaned, grabbing his head. A dozen confused expressions landed upon him. "Sorry. _Huge_ migraine." he lied. Their gazes quickly averted. The rest began to take turns playing and socializing with the new farm dog. Jaime left to go get a glass of water. He made his way into the kitchen, grabbing a cup and turning on the tap. He looked out the window.

 _-ere les- -ost on th- -ndow tha- usu- indi- -gns -at th- weat- is beg- -ing t- -arm._

He grumbled, filling up his glass and turning back around.

 _Tu- -ff -e si- fre- -ter is begin- t- bec- -arce wor-de._

"Fuck off!" Jaime screamed, the glass in his hand breaking into bits and pieces, the sharp pieces cutting his skin open. Bart was the first one to enter the room.

"Jaime! What's going on?!" he demanded, looking at his boyfriend's bloody hand. Mrs. Kent ran over to get a broom to clean up the mess.

"I-I-" Jaime stuttered. His eyes darted back and forth, and he noticed the entire household was in the kitchen by now, including the new puppy. "I need to talk to you in private." he finally concluded as he whispered the sentence to Bart. He nodded, and they began to walk off, when Mr. Kent grabbed him by the shoulder.

"Not so fast, son. We need to take care of that hand." he grabbed Jaime's wrist and inspected the hand.

"Oh, right. _That."_ Jaime observed. He didn't want to admit he already forgot. A few minutes, a lot of stirring, the sound of glass being moved around on the floor, Roy making hot chocolate, and an ace bandage later, Jaime's hand was patched up.

"What happened?" Mr. Kent asked when it was done.

"There was a fly buzzing around me." Jaime lied. He wonders how many lies he's told so far this year. "It got _really_ annoying."

"A fly in January? I'll be damned. The bugs get worse every year. Whatever. You should get to bed." Mr. Kent replied.

It took a lot of effort from Jaime to stop himself from sighing with relief.

 _Go- -athon Ke- -as bou- yo- -cuse. Ke- -is -p, an- -ur sec- wi- -er b- -osed._

Jaime has to bite his lip hold back the yell.

"Okay." he says instead. Mr. Kent gives him a nod before Jaime makes his way up to his room, with Bart behind him. When they finally shut the door, Bart speaks.

"Voices?" he guessed.

"Yeah."

"Sounds like you're getting them really bad." Bart rubs the back of his neck before sitting down on his own bed.

"Yeah, I know." Jaime acknowledges and nods, sitting on his own bed as well, taking off his hoodie. "It's just that-"

"What?" Bart asks, then grins, "Oh, got sidetracked there, Blue?"

"Well, what would you expect? Why are you taking your shirt off anyways?" Jaime asks.

"Dude, it's like, a thousand degrees in here." Bart insists.

"...Definitely." Jaime says.

"So that's what you need." Bart figures, "A _good_ distraction."

"I don't mind that." Jaime insists, now reflecting the grin on Bart's face.

"Do you want me to distract you on your bed?" Bart asks.

"Is that even a question?"

"I was wondering the same thing."

 **SUNDAY, JANUARY 17TH**

"What the hell?"

Jaime lifted his foot from the puddle that was on the floor.

 _Yo- ha- -epped in -he -g's uri-. Des- -im a- -shment._

Jaime ignored the voice.

"What is this?" he asked.

Conner looked over from the couch.

"Oh, shit." he mumbled, "Wolf peed on the floor again."

"So I stepped in dog pee?" Jaime asked, his eyes widening. "Agh... gross." he mumbled, taking his sock off and walking towards the laundry room.

"I'll clean it up." Conner called out as Jaime exited. When Jaime returned, Conner was soaking up the pee with paper towels.

"Hey!" Bart's voice rang behind Jaime, and he jumped up, slightly startled.

"Yeah?" he asked once he turned around.

"You'll never guess." Bart grinned.

"What?"

"It's eleven degrees out!"

"Seriously? Man, we should start taking off the pool covers." Jaime joked.

"No, but seriously, I was going to ask if you could help me clean up the slightly less-frozen horse poop." Bart admitted.

Jaime chuckled somewhat, but nodded in agreement. They got on their winter gear and headed outdoors, towards the barn. They got the large poop scoops, their metal handles still alarmingly cold, despite both of them having gloves on. They finally had a proper basket to place all of the poop in, and no longer needed somebody else to hold a bag while the other scooped the poop.

"So, voices?" Bart asked. Jaime made note he didn't ask yesterday, though it made sense. Bart was busy working with Conner on repairing the furnace. Why Conner had chosen Bart to help him puzzled Jaime, but the reason was most likely because Conner wanted someone to entertain him during the process.

"Only a few times a day." Jaime answered.

"You can't make out what they're saying?" Bart asked, recalling the event from a few days back.

"No. I know they're actual words, but it's almost like static fading back in and out. That's the best I can describe it." Jaime replies, "Minus the static part of course. They're just like... bits and pieces of words."

"Can you figure out what the full words are?"

"I've been trying, but so far, no."

"What do the voices sound like?" Bart asked.

"My own? _Dios mío_ , Bart- _I don't know._ I _really_ don't know."

Bart pauses, looking up at Jaime. "I didn't mean to stress you out."

Jaime pauses as well, and sighs. "I know." he says, "You're not stressing me out. I just don't know." he continued to shovel the poop, and Bart follows.

"You know, it'll be okay." Bart says in a soothing voice, "One day, we'll be together in peace. Maybe in a place like Mexico. You can teach me _la lengua de español_ and how to make Mexican food, and then face-palm when I butcher the words and accidentally set our meals on fire." he chuckled.

Jaime smiles. He knows he shouldn't. Bart was trying to comfort him, but Bart _didn't know_ that would happen for sure. Still, Jaime couldn't help but melt into that soothing tone. He wanted it to happen. He wanted it to happen _so badly._ It wasn't likely, but Jaime was willing to take any sliver of hope he could get right now. "We'll take trips to the beach," he continues the story after Bart, "and you'll forget to put on sunblock. You'll get sunburned so bad you'll look like a lobster. I'd then have to take care of you for the next week while you slack off on the couch and watch nothing but House Hunters and South Park."

Bart let out a sharp and loud laugh, and Jaime couldn't help but laugh along with him.

He hated how much he was stupidly in love with that boy.

* * *

 **I have (very simplified) images on my Deviant Art account (which goes by the same username as this one) of what the Kent farm/house looks like in this story. Now, I understand that we're all spiritual lyrical miracle individuals, but if you wanna see what it's like in my head as well as my _amazing_ handwriting, go check that out. **


	15. Chapter 15

**WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER:**

 **-would you look at that, more sexual stuff**

* * *

 **MONDAY, JANUARY 22ND**

"Think it's good?" Bart asked as he smoothed out the last of the fort's wall.

"Yeah." Jaime nodded, laying down in the snow, looking up at the snow, watching his breath evaporate into the cold air. He readjusted his hat and looked up into the sky, which was covered in stars like glitter. He could feel Bart shifting to lie down next to him.

"I've actually never gone stargazing before." he said.

"Really?" Jaime asks, surprised. He sits up to look at Bart, a confused expression on his face.

"Well," Bart chuckles somewhat, "I never looked at the stars for more than a few minutes at a time. The thing is, you know in the Sims where they could be crushed by a satellite for stargazing? I was scared that would happen to me."

Jaime lets out a shrill laugh, and it echoes across the sky.

"Yeah, yeah, I know." Bart laughs along. Jaime lays back down, continuing to look at the stars.

"Do you know any constellations?" he asks.

"The big dipper, and that's pretty much it." Bart admits.

"Eh, I'm the same." Jaime agrees, "But they're pretty to look at, no?"

"Couldn't imagine a world without 'em." Bart responds. Jaime smiles.

"We'd go to the beach at night, too." he continues the story, "To look at the stars. We'd build sandcastles."

"I'd step in a dead fish and freak out." Bart says, "You'd have to reassure me that I'm not going to die from an infection for getting fish guts all over my feet."

Jaime lets out another shrill laugh. "We'd live in a small apartment, next to a couple with a baby. It'd cry all the time, and I'd get headaches and constantly be popping pills. I'd look at you one day after being extremely tired while the baby next door is crying. I'd say, 'Bart, always remind me to buy condoms so that never happens to us.' and you'd say, 'Well, Jaime, neither of us can get pregnant.'"

Bart chuckled, "That sounds about right. And instead of a kid, we'll get a kitten. Or a puppy. And it'll be our baby."

"Or both." Jaime suggested.

"Yeah, that sounds about right. Let's get a kitten and a puppy. We'll name the puppy 'Itchy' and the kitten 'Scratchy'." Bart insisted.

"Boys?" a voice from the distance called out. They sat up, and saw Mr. Kent walking towards them from the house.

"Yeah?" Bart called back out.

"Come on, it's time to go to bed." Mr. Kent responded as he finally got closer. They nodded, picking themselves up, bits of snow falling off of them once they stood up. They stepped over the fort and began to walk back to the house with the elderly Kent.

"What were you lads doing back there, anyways?" he asked curiously.

"We were talking about the stars. And puppies and kittens." Bart replied.

Mr. Kent smiles, "Makes me glad boys these days aren't afraid to admit they like little animals. You know, when I was your age, Jaime, I had been volunteering at the town's animal shelter for five years by then. I had a real job, too. But, I was the only male who worked with the kittens when I was at the shelter."

"Really?" Jaime asks, surprised.

"Yep." Mr. Kent replies as he opens the door to the house, the sudden heat almost overwhelming.

"Awesome. Way to go, Mr. Kent!" Bart cheers as he kicks his boots off. Wolf comes up to them, sniffing them and wagging his tail.

They took their winter gear and placed it in the laundry room, then left to go to bed. Once they got there, Bart snuggled close to Jaime, and began to talk.

"We'd have white wine with Taco Bell on Fridays as a fancy dinner."

"There's no Taco Bell in Mexico, cariño." Jaime laughs, adjusting himself so he can sleep more comfortably.

"Wait, really?" Bart asks, genuinely surprised.

Jaime laughs again. "Nope. They tried, but there's no Taco Bell."

"Shame." Bart says, "Guess we'll have to go to the taco trucks instead, then."

"Can you shut up about tacos now? I'm trying to sleep." Jaime continues to laugh.

Bart grins, "Alright, alright, fine... but Jaime?"

"Hmm?"

"If we don't have Taco Bell, can we have ramen instead?"

Jaime snorted, "Okay."

 **TUESDAY, JANUARY 23RD**

"Twelve degrees." Roy confirms at the breakfast table following morning.

"Good." Mr. Kent says after sipping his coffee, "I've made it official. February fifteenth is when I go back into town."

"No begging." Conner scolded as Wolf attempted to get some food from him.

"What do you guys even feed the dog, anyways?" Cassie asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Leftover scraps from each meal." Conner replies.

 _-nhealthy cho-._

Jaime chokes on his food. Quickly, Bart gets up and performs the Heimlich maneuver, and Jaime coughs out the bacon that was caught in his throat.

"Jaime? You okay there?" Mrs. Kent asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Jaime croaks and picks up his glass of water, then quickly gulps it down. "Thanks, Bart." he says as he sits back in his chair.

"It was payback." Bart smirked once he sat back down, too.

 _"Payback?"_ Jaime asks, surprised, looking at Bart's smirk-covered face.

"Yeah. For saving my life." Bart continues to smirk. Soon enough, Jaime's reflecting the same expression, and they continue to look at each other that way until a loud throat-clearing sound is heard, and they snap towards the direction of Dick, who is waving his hand by his neck and shaking his head.

"Oh. Right." Jaime mumbles to himself. He felt completely idiotic for forgetting that they were surrounded by the entire household. They finished up their breakfast before getting to work. Tim and Cassie join them in the barn. Cassie and Bart were giving the horses new food while Tim and Jaime were cleaning the bedding of the pigs.

"You two looked ready to kiss back there." Tim teased.

 _"Wh-what?"_ Jaime stammered, feeling his face heat up from embarrassment.

Tim raises an eyebrow in confusion, his dark blue eyes looking into Jaime's brown ones, "Just giving you a hard time, dude. Didn't expect you to-"

"R-right." Jaime continues to stammer, then shakes his head, breaking eye contact with Tim.

 _-stoy hi-. He -ows -oo mu-._

 _"Fuck off!"_ Jaime screamed, grabbing his head.

Tim looks at him in surprise, and he could feel the gazes of Cassie and Bart on him.

"Sorry. I wasn't talking to you." he apologized.

"Jaime, are you alright?" Tim asks, the tone of concern too much for Jaime _not_ to feel guilty over. Bart speeds over to Jaime and grabs his shoulders.

"Hey, come on." he says, pulling him up and away from the others, "Voices?" he whispered once they were the appropriate distance away.

Jaime nods.

"Ah, okay. Well, can you try not to scream at them?" Bart requests. Jaime narrows his eyes and folds his arms, glaring at Bart.

"So, that's a no?" Bart chuckles nervously.

More glaring.

"Alright, fine. Just try to control yourself, Blue. I can provide more distractions if you want me to. Maybe tonight?" he suggests, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Distractions?" Jaime continues the smirk he had earlier.

"Yeah." Bart says, now reflecting it. He looks back and forth to make sure neither Tim or Cassie are watching. Quickly, he gets on his toes and plants a quick peck on Jaime's cheek before turning around and going back to help Cassie.

Jaime doesn't know why he's embarrassed. Whatever the case, he's just glad he has Bart.

x

"Stop being so hot."

 _"Never."_

Jaime wants to complain, to tell Bart to just be naked already, but Bart is slowly revealing more of himself, and the thought flies out of his mind faster than he knows it.

Bart pauses.

"Please, cariño. Don't tease me." Jaime whines.

Bart smirks, continuing to roll off his shirt until it was completely gone, and Jaime let himself take in the sight.

Jaime knew he should wait until Bart came over to the bed, but he couldn't. He got up and picked Bart up, to which Bart wrapped his arms around Jaime's neck and began to kiss him. Jaime then moved back over to the bed and placed Bart on it. Finally, since he no longer had to hold Bart, he allowed his hands to travel across the brunet's body, to feel how warm it was. He moved his palms across Bart's muscles, which weren't too prominent, but they were there. He had definitely gained some bulk since September, Jaime knew that, but his body was perfect the way it was. Bart shuddered beneath his touch, and Jaime smirked.

"How could have I gotten somebody as amazingly sexy as you?" he asked Bart.

"You earned it, Blue." Bart smirks back, pulling Jaime in to kiss him again. Jaime gladly returns it, happy moans coming out from the back of his throat. They separate, and Jaime practically tears off his own shirt. Bart takes the opportunity to move his hands around Jaime's body. Jaime doesn't shudder like Bart did, but instead, moves his body with Bart's hands.

Jaime goes for Bart's neck once again, making Bart let out a sharp exhale. "D-don't leave it too bruised, please." he requests.

"Are you sure you want that?" Jaime's laugh and hot breath fills Bart's left ear.

"M-maybe not." Bart admits. He lets out another sharp exhale, "I take that back."

"I'm gonna make you feel good, Bart. And you're gonna love it." his voice was husky, insistent, predominant, and it was fucking _hot._ He goes after it, leaving little love bites near the top of his neck, then slowly goes downwards. Bart lets out small moans, making sure not to be too loud.

By the time Jaime's done sucking on his neck, Bart's sure he'll have to wear hoodies for the next week. But that was alright, because it was definitely worth it. Bart repays Jaime by giving Jaime kisses as well, as well as leaving his own mark on Jaime's collarbone.

"So, am I good at my job of distracting?" Bart asks once he finds his shirt and slips it back on.

"Yeah." Jaime responds as he fixes his sheets, "I think you'll be getting a raise sometime soon... and I'm not talking money."

Bart laughs, "Glad to hear it, boss." he says as he turns out the lights. "Don't plan on quitting this job anytime soon."

"And I don't plan upon firing you." Jaime chuckles as he slips in his bed, and Bart joins him soon after.

"'Night, Blue." he smiles.

Jaime smiles back, "Buenas noches, mi amor."

 **TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 13TH**

Jaime kept hearing voices over the next few weeks.

Bart kept distracting him from them.

He had totally forgotten about them for the most part. Still, he couldn't help but note that each time they spoke, they almost seemed like they were making more sense. He wasn't really complaining anymore, though. Cuddling and having sex with Bart _definitely_ made up for their annoyances. It wasn't until he was in the middle of a snowball fight with the household did he hear one again.

 _-alls -re -neffective. Rec- tic- pla- -non._

He wanted nothing more than to collapse in the snow right then and there. He ignored it, thinking it must have been his imagination. But it persisted.

 _-erate them all._

Jaime wanted to scream at to fuck off once again, but he couldn't do that. Not out here. He felt his face be hit with a snowball, and he fell on his back. He wiped the broken snowball off of his face, and looked up into the sky, only to be greeted with Black Beetle standing over him, a large grin on his face, staring into his soul with the orange lenses over his eyes.

Jaime screamed, "No!" and rolled himself over to try and protect himself. However, nothing happened. He sat up, looking back and forth, but there was no Black Beetle in sight.

Sighing, he stood up, feeling disoriented and dizzy.

Luckily, he managed to get himself back into the game. However, he couldn't keep focused on it. He noted to bring it up to Bart later.

After what felt like forever, they finally decided to end it. Jaime made his way back inside, removing his snow gear.

Sure, being hit in the face with a snowball wasn't cool.

But he had never hated it this much.

 **WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 14TH**

Jaime woke up with a paper on his face.

Confused, he peeled it off of himself and looked at it. It was a plain white loose leaf paper folded into a card, with _Hey Jaime,_ written in red colored pencil on the front. Puzzled but amused, Jaime opened up the card.

 _Bee my Valentine?_

On top of the words, were two bees with a heart in between them, as well as cartoonish smiles on their faces.

 _(Get it? Bee? Ha ha!)_

On the bottom of the page were the options "Yes" and "Sí" with check-boxes next to them.

Jaime rolled his and eyes and chuckled, putting the card underneath his pillow. He made his way downstairs, and grabbed his breakfast before sitting down next to Bart.

"So, what's the answer?" Bart whispered while the household was having their own conversation.

"Well, _yes_ and _sí_ mean essentially the same thing." Jaime replied.

"Ha. I know." Bart chuckled.

"I don't have the option to say no?" Jaime chuckled back.

"We both know you wouldn't." Bart grinned.

"I mean, I guess that's true, Bart," Jaime began, "but I don't think I could be with somebody who makes such awful puns. _Bee_ my valentine? Seriously?"

Bart's grin faded, and it was replaced by a frown.

"Wow, Jaime. That really stung."

It took Jaime a few seconds, but then he burst into laughter, grabbing the attention of the others. He dismissed it as Bart making a joke (which wasn't a lie, exactly) and they continued their breakfast.

Mr. Kent sent out Bart and Jaime to the barn to give the horses some fresh water.

"So..." Bart trails off as he lifts up the bucket full of water into Misty's stall.

"So?" Jaime asks, confused.

"What's the answer?"

Jaime laughed, "Yes... in every language."

Bart smiled. "Oui?"

"Ja."

"Sim?"

"Kyllä."

"Alright. I'm out of languages." Bart chuckled.

"I win." Jaime smirked.

"Yeah, yeah, sure. Have fun believing that." Bart rolled his eyes. "I'm actually not _that bad_ with other languages."

"I figured. You understand some Spanish stuff." Jaime acknowledged, and continued to smirk. "Do you understand this? _'¿Quieres tener sexo?'"_

"Are you actually asking, or...?"

"You know what it means?" Jaime snickered.

"Well, if you want me to actually answer; _cogida sí."_

The worlds rolled flawlessly off of Bart's tongue, and goddamn was it arousing.

Jaime grabbed him and pulled him into a kiss, and Bart let out a purr of satisfaction. They continued to stand there kissing for about another minute, before their shirts were off and scattered somewhere else. Jaime picked Bart up and continued to make out with him, Bart clearly enjoying it with the small noises that came out of his mouth.

 _Sca- -ow -mone lev- ha- -ceased._

Jaime was so startled by the sudden voice that he dropped Bart, causing the back of his arm to be sliced open by something sharp. He let out a wail of pain, one that Jaime knew would haunt him for nights to come. He gasped as he saw blood beginning to spill down Bart's arm, and holy shit the cut was bad. In a panic, he took Bart's shirt and wrapped it around the wound, causing Bart to let out a whimper of pain from the pressure. The blood quickly seeped through, and still in panic, Jaime grabbed his shirt and tied that one over Bart's now soaked-with-blood shirt.

 _"Oh god."_ Bart mumbled in pain, holding back tears.

"Shh, Bart, it'll be okay. Cm'on, we gotta get back to the house." Jaime grabbed Bart by his good arm and lifted him up.

Well, things totally went from sexy to scary within a span of half a second.

How fun.

x

"Are you okay now?" Mr. Kent asked as he finally finished wrapping proper medical tapes around Bart's arm. Bart nodded, though he winced at a sudden throbbing pain. The medical tape would soon be stained red, despite cleaning the wound. He cringed at the thought.

"I'll fix him some soup." Mrs. Kent said as she exited the room.

Bart got himself comfortable on the couch, kicking his feet up on the armrest.

"I'm sorry." Jaime said once Mr. Kent left.

"Why'd you drop me?" Bart sounded hurt, and it made Jaime's heart shatter.

"I heard it- the voice. It startled me." Jaime explained, "Bart, I'm sorry. Really. I'll do anything you want to make it up. I didn't see the object behind you. I should have known."

"Okay. You know what I want? Not to fool around in the barn anymore." Bart said. Jaime nodded in understanding.

"So, amor, is there anything I can do for you in the meantime?" he asked as Mrs. Kent entered the room with the soup.

 _"'Amor'?"_ Mrs. Kent asked with a perplexed look on her face as she placed the soup on the stand next to the couch. Jaime could feel his face lose its color, and he looked at Bart in a panicked state.

 _"It means, uh, like good friend or 'bro' in Spanish."_ Jaime responded quickly.

"Ah, I didn't take Spanish back when I was in high school. I took French. _'Amour'_ meant love. I was kind of confused, I thought you were calling him _'love'!_ Ha ha." she chuckled then shook her head. "Whatever. I'll see you two around."

"Ha. Bye, Mrs. Kent." Bart said as she exited.

 _"Jaime!"_ he then hissed once she left, "What if she decided to take Spanish instead of French? She would have known!"

"I'm sorry! I didn't hear her coming." Jaime sighed, "Whatever. She's gone now. Do you want me to do anything for you?"

"Hmm… how about you make me a drawing?" Bart suggested.

"Okay. Of what?" Jaime asked.

"Anything."

"What about a big penis?" Jaime teased.

"Or something you'll actually put effort into." Bart countered.

Jaime laughed. "Okay." he promised. He looked back and forth to make sure nobody was looking, then kissed Bart's forehead, and smiled. "See you later, _amor."_

 **THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 15TH**

"Jonathan?"

The voice startled Mr. Kent, and he whirled around, to face the one and only Don Allen.

"Don!" he cheered, quickly placing toothpaste in his cart. "How's life?"

"Not that good, actually." Don admitted, and he sighed. "We still haven't found my son. And my wife wants to leave me. The Keystone Police Department is questioning my ability as a cop… and a father."

"Oh, my. Don, I'm so sorry to hear that." Mr. Kent apologized.

"It's okay." Don sighed again, "I think you're the only person I can actually talk to these days."

"Really?" Mr. Kent asked, honestly surprised.

"Yeah." he nodded. They talked for about five minutes before Don said, "Well, Meloni wants me to be home before dinner, so I should get going."

"Goodbye." Mr. Kent said simply. Don nodded before turning around and leaving.

x

"I felt like Mr. Kent was being weird today." Bart said as he rummaged through his drawer, trying to find a clean pair of socks for the next day.

"I didn't really notice anything." Jaime admitted, continuing his drawing. "Maybe it's because Wolf pooped all over the floor."

Bart chuckled.

"Aha! Got it!" he said once he finally found a clean pair, then raised his hands up in the air in victory. He yelped in pain as he remembered his arm was still healing.

"You okay, Bart?" Jaime asked, pausing his drawing and turning his head to look at Bart.

"Yeah, it's just my arm. It hurts." Bart explained, letting out a few deep breaths. A harsh knock was heard on the door.

"Boys?" Mr. Kent asked as he opened the door. Jaime and Bart both looked up at him.

"What's up?" Bart asked.

Mr. Kent folded his arms and put on a stern face. "Tell me, _right now._ How long has this been going on?"

Jaime could feel his heart drop into his stomach.

 _"H-howlonghaswhatbeengoingon?"_ Bart asked almost too fast to process.

"Son, don't you _dare_ act like you don't know what I'm talking about." Mr. Kent demanded, his patience withering away by the second.

Jaime sat silence, his heart ready to pound out of his chest.

"Well?"

"Almost three months." he responded so quietly he could hardly hear himself, and he didn't dare look Mr. Kent in the eyes.

"Almost _three months?"_ Mr. Kent asked in disbelief. He sighed. "Sit on the bed. Both of you." he said, gesturing to Bart's bed. They both obliged, and Mr. Kent sat on Jaime's bed. He noted that Jaime managed to keep a calm demeanor, but Bart was shaking so much he looked ready to vibrate out of his own skin.

"I'm hoping you're both aware of the obvious age difference here." Mr. Kent said addressed first. Jaime looked down.

"We are." he said.

"You are _eighteen,_ Jaime." Mr. Kent scolded, and Jaime nodded grimly in acknowledgment. "Don't you two realize that your relationship is illegal?"

"So is keeping us here at the farm…" Bart muttered. Mr. Kent glared daggers into him, and Bart winced.

"And I'm also hoping you're both aware that you're both boys." Mr. Kent continued, "Though, I'm almost completely sure you both know very well that you are. I personally don't support homosexuality. If you two want to date somewhere else, that's fine. That's not my business. But on _my_ property? That is a definite _no._ That will not be happening in this house."

 _"But-"_ Bart protested, but Mr. Kent silenced him.

"How'd you find out?" Jaime continued to mutter.

Mr. Kent let out a loud exhale. "Well…"

* * *

 **SIXTEEN HOURS PREVIOUS**

"Remember when I took French in high school?" Mrs. Kent asked the next morning. It was rather warm and sunny out, the natural light filling the kitchen by itself. Only she, Mr. Kent, and Roy were up, and it was still quiet in the house.

"Been a long time since, but yeah." Mr. Kent nodded as he fixed breakfast.

"Well, I was giving Bart his soup yesterday when I heard Jaime say something along the lines of, 'So, amor, can I help you do anything?' close to that. Anyways, I was so confused. I thought he was calling the boy 'love', because in French, 'amour' means love." Martha explained. "Turns out he was speaking Spanish, and it meant something like 'good friend', or 'buddy'." she laughed.

Mr. Kent laughed as well, and Roy stopped drinking his coffee.

"Um…" he mumbled, looking up at Mrs. Kent.

"Hmm?" Martha asked.

 _"Yeah…_ Martha... I hate to burst your bubble, but Jaime was lying to you." he said.

"What?" she asked, a perplexed look on her face.

"'Amor' means the same thing in Spanish as it does in French. It means love. 'Good friend' or 'buddy' would be like, _'hermano'_ or _'ese'._ I took Spanish all four years of high school, and I can guarantee I'm not mistaken."

Mr. Kent paused in his tracks.

"That means… you're joking, right?" he asked, turning to Roy.

"I'm not." Roy shook his head.

 _"They're-"_ Mr. Kent stopped himself, unable to speak.

"Sounds like they're more than just good friends to me, Jonathan." Roy said, taking a sip of his coffee.

Mrs. Kent sat in silence, then rested her head in her hands. "Oh my lord." she mumbled, "They share a room!"

 _"I can't believe they're-"_ Mr. Kent stopped himself again, pinching the bridge of his nose and sighing. "Are you sure you heard him correctly, Martha?"

Martha nodded.

"I _knew_ something was off about those boys... the way they look each other in the eyes..." he trailed off, continuing to sigh.

"So, what are you gonna do about it?" Roy cocked an eyebrow.

"I suppose I'll have to confront them about it later." Mr. Kent stated, looking down.

And he sighed again.

* * *

"So we're gonna have to make some changes around here." Mr. Kent said after he was done explaining. "You two are going to be sleeping in separate rooms from now on. Bart, you're moving in with Dick. Tim will be coming here." Mr. Kent informed.

"But _why?"_ Bart cried.

"You _know_ why." Mr. Kent muttered.

"But we never did- we never had- _sex-_ and it's not like we will now!" Bart defended himself.

"Do you think I was born yesterday, Bart? I was a teenage boy once, too, you know. Two months is too long to have done absolutely _nothing._ "

"Bart," Jaime mumbled, looking ready to evaporate into the air, "just give it up. He's not gonna fall for it."

Bart let an annoyed noise out from the back of his throat.

"That is true, Jaime. If there's one thing that's true here at the Kent farm, it's that we're not stupid." Mr. Kent almost smiled, but then got serious once again. "There will be no touching between the two of you. No cuddling, no kissing, no holding hands. You will no longer be working together alone, there will always be somebody else there. And the rule has applied since day one, and still applies. _No. Sex."_

"We can't even _touch_ each other? _What?"_ Jaime's head snapped up and he looked at Mr. Kent for the first time.

Mr. Kent nodded. "You lost that privilege."

"But that's _ridiculous!"_ he complained.

"If you don't like it, then get off of my farm." Mr. Kent replied in a gravelly tone.

Jaime sighed and folded his arms. "Fine." he admitted defeat.

"Gather your things, Bart." Mr. Kent commanded.

"I have to move _now?"_ he asked in surprise.

"You're not spending another night in here."

Bart wanted to protest, but knew it was useless. Sighing, he went over to his drawer and began to grab his clothes. Jaime sat there awkwardly, staring at the floor. Once Bart was done, Mr. Kent guided him out of the room, leaving Jaime in complete silence.

He sat there for about a minute before deciding to go back to his own bed. Not in the mood to draw anymore, he closed his sketchbook and tossed it on his nightstand.

 _Jon- has sep- you of yo- -ate. Ki- -im._

Jaime ignored the voice and lay down on his bed. He heard the door open, and he sat back up to see who it was. It was Tim, carrying all of his things with him, and he put them on Bart's bed. Jaime wants to ask if he knows why he's moved rooms, but doesn't dare.

"Jesus Christ, Jaime. You and Bart should really shut up in the night." he chuckled.

"What?" Jaime asks, confused and slightly nervous.

Tim cocked an eyebrow. "Mr. Kent moved Bart to my room because you guys talked too much during the night. Right?"

"R-right." Jaime confirmed, glad that Mr. Kent hadn't told the real reason behind the move.

"So, you're my new roomie. I wouldn't call it a downgrade exactly. You got a T.V. in here." Tim chuckled.

Jaime nervously laughed along.

x

"So, motherfucker." Dick began once Mr. Kent left the room, "What's the real reason behind this move?"

Bart sighed, and explained the story to Dick, who listened with interest.

"I can kick Roy's ass tomorrow if you'd like." he said as he lay back down on his own bed.

"Nah. That'd just stir up more drama, which is not what we need right now." Bart replied.

"Wasn't his place to snitch, though." Dick insisted.

"It wasn't." Bart agreed, "But it already happened. There's not much we can do now." he sighed in defeat.

"Well, if you say so, motherfucker. I'ma go to sleep now. Can you turn out the lights?" Dick requested.

"Sure." Bart nodded as Dick got underneath his sheets. Once the lights were off, he went into his own bed. It felt strange and foreign, and he wanted nothing more than to snuggle up to Jaime and know that everything would be alright.

But it sure as hell didn't feel like things would be.

 **FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 16TH**

Breakfast the next morning was interesting, to say the least.

Bart made his way downstairs, trying to remember who knew and who didn't know. Mr. Kent knew. Mrs. Kent knew. Roy knew. Dick knew. Conner didn't know, or to his knowledge, at least. Cassie and Tim didn't know either. So that meant at least four out of the seven other people besides him and Jaime knew.

God dammit.

Jaime still sat next to Bart, though they could both tell the Kents were keeping a close eye on them. The people who didn't know about what had happened treated the morning like they usually would, though, giving the atmosphere an unsettling mix of casualty and awkwardness.

They ate their breakfast, going through phases of complete silence or loads of chatter.

This was way too strange.

Jaime could tell Bart fell uneasy, and he subtly slid his hand into Bart's. It startled Bart at first, but then he felt relaxed with Jaime's reassurance. Jaime gave him a look that said, _"We're gonna be alright, okay?"_ Bart responded with a silent, _"Yeah. Okay."_ along with a small nod.

Mr. Kent sent Bart, Jaime, and Tim off to horse duty. A few hours of smelly poop, annoyed whinnies, and long silences passed before it was time to eat lunch, then go back out and work again. They had dinner, then the rest of the night off. The household played a few card games before calling it a night, and going to bed.

 **SATURDAY, MARCH 3RD**

It had been two weeks.

It was the longest two weeks of both of their lives.

Jaime kept hearing voices, and he didn't have Bart to help him.

Bart would have nightmares, and Dick would have to help him through his three-a.m. panic attacks instead (to which, he wasn't too thrilled about) of Jaime. When they were assigned to a task and had Dick with them, however, they kissed like there was no tomorrow. Dick didn't mind, as long as they continued to help him through the task they were trying to complete. Hell, it even amused him. He'd tease them, saying they were like Romeo and Juliet.

Romeo and Juliet, they sure were like. Treating every moment they got alone together like it was their last, and at the risk of potentially getting caught, too. Because they honestly didn't know which one would be. If Mr. or Mrs. Kent caught them, they'd be packing their bags within the hour.

So when they were completely alone, they did it- it being actual, full-on sex. They didn't know when they'd get another chance. It was dumb move on their end- impulsive, but they were desperate and horny and made it work. What else could you expect?

To make things simple, there were no regrets.

Jaime and Bart were working outside the barn with Tim and Cassie when something odd happened.

There was a noise.

Coming from a car.

There was a _fucking car_ driving down the path that led to the house. It was a relatively new car, a black Suburban, six years old at most. In panic, the kids ran into the barn and went up the hayloft to hide.

"We're fucked." Cassie began to panic and hyperventilate, "We're totally fucked."

"Shh, Cass." Tim whispered, "We don't know who it is."

"Who do you think it is?" Jaime asked the group, "I mean, it wasn't a cop car, so-"

"Guys?" Bart asked, who had been silent ever since they spotted the vehicle.

"Yeah?" three curious voices responded.

"Guys... that was my dad's car."


	16. Chapter 16

**WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER: none**

* * *

"You're joking, right?"

"I wish I was."

Tim didn't respond after that.

Jaime felt like he was going to throw up.

They were done for. They'd been discovered. He was going to be thrown in jail and never see Bart again.

After about twenty minutes of whispering to each other about what exactly was going on and how they'd run away if they were caught, the barn doors swung open. They all hushed.

It was Mr. Kent.

"Kids?" he asked for them, scanning the barn. "It's safe now. Come on out."

A large sigh of relief was heard from the hayloft, and they made their way down.

"What happened?" Cassie was the first to ask. "Who was that?"

"Officer Don Allen- Bart's father, to be specific." Mr. Kent explained. Though Bart had already told them it was their father, all four teens' hearts jumped at the elderly Kent's confirmation. "He wasn't here to find you guys, however."

"Huh?" Bart asked.

"The thing is, Don's father, Barry, was a good friend of mine back in the day." Mr. Kent explained, "Sometimes he'd bring his wife and kids to my farm. Don grew up on visiting me."

"Oh, wow." was Cassie's response.

"Well, since I've had more people at the farm recently, I've also had to go to town more recently. I always end up running into him. And I was his 'last resort', I suppose. He came here wanting support, because apparently Martha and I are the only ones trustworthy 'round this area." Mr. Kent explained.

"So he had no idea we were here?" Tim asked. Mr. Kent nodded. More sighs of relief came out of the teens' mouths.

"The thing is," Mr. Kent rubbed the back of his neck, "he has clear intent upon coming back. For visits. To help me, Martha, Roy, and Conner out at the farm. And I tried to convince him otherwise, but…"

"So what's that supposed to mean?" Jaime asked.

Mr. Kent sighed, "Look, I really enjoyed having you all here at the farm, helping my family out and such. You're good kids. It's been a good six months with you around. But… but I think it's time for you guys to leave."

 _"What?"_ was the question asked in unison.

"Kids, listen." Mr. Kent begged, "We don't know when Don will return. You got lucky he didn't spot you outside the barn when he was pulling up to the house. If you guys stay here and he comes back, chances are, he'll spot one of you, at least. And that's bad news for all of us. You need to leave."

He had a point.

"We understand." Tim finally responded and nodded.

"Well, what I advise you all do right now is go back to the house, talk to Dick, and make a plan. Can you do that for me?" Mr. Kent asked.

A series of nods occurred.

A sad smile showed up on the elderly Kent's face. He lead them back to the house, where Dick, Conner, Roy, and Martha were all sitting at the table.

"We'll give you all some time to think." Mr. Kent said as he gestured for his grandson and wife. They exited the room with him.

"So…" Cassie trailed off.

"Where'd you hide?" Bart blurted out.

Confused looks from all around the table were placed upon him.

"That question was directed towards Dick." Bart clarified and let out a nervous chuckle.

"Oh, the closet." Dick pointed to a small coat closet near the front door.

"Were you happy to come out of it?" Tim teased.

"Yes, Tim. I sure was." Dick smirked.

"Can we get back to serious business now?" Roy asked, "I need to know where I'm gonna end up driving you guys."

"Right, right." Tim apologized.

"I have an idea." Dick announced.

"What's that?" Jaime asked.

"We'll go to Jason's-"

 _"Fuck. No."_ Tim cut him off.

"Hear me out, Tim." Dick demanded, "Oh, and by the way, Jason is- _was_ our foster brother. He was kind of an asshole to Tim. He got along fine with me, though. Anyways, Jason owns a bunch of RVs. We can buy an RV from him, then cross the border to Mexico with it. Tada."

"Okay, first of all," Cassie piped in, "We don't have the money for an RV. Second of all, you make it seem like crossing the Mexican-American border is a piece of cake. And even after that, if we did make it to Mexico, what would we do there?"

"He accepts more than just cash," Dick explained, "Drugs, sex, food, whatever you can give him. And we can make a plan of what to do in Mexico right now."

"We don't know that much Spanish." Cassie countered.

"I can be a translator." Jaime offered before his mind even processed it.

"Alright, alright, fine." Cassie replied.

"Dick. You have a bunch of weed, right?" Tim asked, "Will he accept just that?"

 _"Just weed_ for an RV? No, he'll probably want food and sex as well." Dick predicted. "Cassie?" he asked, looking over at her, "Take one for the team?"

"She is _not_ having sex with that disgusting rat!" Tim exclaimed.

"Bart?"

"He isn't, either." Jaime responded before Bart could. Dick shot him a look that said, _"A little possessive now, aren't we?"_ and the rest of the table gave him confused looks with the exception of Bart, who looked embarrassed out of his mind.

"No." he finally answered, looking ready to hit Jaime, "I won't."

"Alright, then. Jaime?" Dick asked.

Jaime shook his head.

"Well, I highly doubt Jason would want to bang me or Tim... so that boils us down to food, weed, and money." Dick concluded, "Which I'm sure we'll get plenty of food from the Kents."

"Right. So how're we gonna cross the border if this happens?" Tim asked.

"I can steal Jason's driver's license." Dick explained, "I look enough like him, anyways. Tim, you and Bart can sit in the back of the RV and resemble my little brothers. Cassie and Jaime can hide somewhere."

"Dick, they don't fuck around at the border." Roy pointed out, "I don't think it'd be that easy to hide them."

"That's why we gotta be creative." Dick urged, "And find the right RV that could have good hiding spots."

The plan was coming together.

 _-his i- good._

Jaime ignored the voice.

A few more minutes of discussing what they'd do in Mexico happened before they began to pack their things, warning the Kents beforehand that they'd need some food from them. They decided to depart the next morning.

 **SUNDAY, MARCH 4TH**

"Well, I suppose this is goodbye." Mrs. Kent said to the group. They nodded in acknowledgment, knowing it was very likely they were to never see the Kents again. A few hugs and handshakes were exchanged before they piled into Roy's car, driving off to the house of Jason Todd.

They sat in the same exact seats from before, when they first arrived at the farm. A bunch of memories from six months ago flooded into Bart, and he couldn't believe how things were so _different_ now.

Finally, they arrived at Jason's, knocking on the door of his old house, seeing the RVs on the side and back. He opened it up, letting out a yawn, his hair and look in his eyes evidence enough that he had just woken up.

"What the fuck?"

"What's up, Jaybird?" Dick cheered.

"Who are these people?" Jason demanded.

"Let us in, and we'll explain. Please." Tim begged. Jason glared at him for a moment before sighing and letting them in.

Dick turned to Roy. "Well, uh, it was nice knowing you, Roy."

Realization of most likely never seeing his friend again dawned upon Roy's face, and he looked sad. "Oh, uh, yeah, I guess."

"Hugs?" Dick offered, holding out his arms.

"Yeah, hugs." Roy nodded in agreement, and the two friends held each other close for a few moments before letting go. Dick then grabbed Roy and kissed his forehead.

Roy sighed, "I'll let that one slide."

Dick laughed as he went to enter the house, "Have a good life, Roy."

"Yeah. You too, Dick. Goodbye." Roy waved as he walked back to his car.

"Goodbye!" Dick called out before entering the house.

"Make yourself at home." Jason said blandly to the others. He then turned to Dick once he arrived inside. "This better be important. I was having the best wet dream of my life and you tore me out of it."

Dick rolled his eyes, "Lighten up, man. We wanna buy one of your RVs."

"Oh?" Jason raised an eyebrow.

"Yep. We have weed, food, and money to offer you." Dick promised.

"I like the sound of that." Jason admitted, "But why?"

It took about a half an hour to explain the whole story.

"I see." Jason nodded, "Well, that's great. I can show you guys the selections."

He did.

There were five RVs in total. To make things simple, all of them were far from fancy. After being showed them, they had a discussion on which one to buy. They eventually settled on the one which offered the most hiding space. One where you could take the cushions off on the seats and store stuff in there. This RV's seats had just enough width to hold an adult.

"We'll take the white one with the faded green stripe." Dick eventually told him.

"Okay, show me what you got."

Dick offered all of the weed he had, food, plus the cash they could spare.

"Good enough." Jason accepted the offer, "Though, you guys should probably clean that thing out. It needs filled up with gas, too. We also have to create bullshit license plate stickers and passports."

That's exactly what the day consisted of. The entire thing was cleaned, Jason made fake stickers and passports, and Tim drilled small holes in the couch so Jaime and Cassie would be able to breathe while hiding.

It was a serious day, yes, but it also consisted of fun. When they were cleaning the exterior, Bart would often spray the hose on Jaime, and in revenge, when they were cleaning the interior, Jaime sprayed Bart with chemicals, which made him freak out. Except they weren't really chemicals, it was just was a spray bottle full of water.

Jason had a radio play while they worked. Dick and Cassie showed off their dances, resulting in a lot of laughter.

The sun was beginning to set, and they called it a night, planning to leave the next morning. Jason gave up his bedroom (the only one in the house) for Cassie so she could have some privacy. Dick and Jason slept in the living room, while Tim, Bart, and Jaime slept in the trailer.

The night consisted of the radio humming softly, Tim playing with a Rubix cube he found, Jaime talking to Bart as he lie on top of him, and Bart finally falling asleep, to which, Jaime gently got himself off of the couch and draped a thin blanket over Bart, and turned off the radio.

"You're in love with him, aren't you?"

Jaime froze, then sighed. "Yeah." There was no point in lying.

"Guess I should've seen it sooner." Tim shrugged.

"Are you bothered by it?" Jaime challenged.

"Yes, but not in the way you're thinking. I'm not a homophobe, Jaime." Tim insisted.

"Then why are you bothered, exactly?" Jaime demanded.

"I'm bothered because… well… think about it, Jaime. We have this whole thing planned out, right? But there's still the chance that our plan will fail. And you've captured this kid's heart. But what happens if we're caught? He'd be distraught over losing you."

"I-" Jaime discontinued to speak, because holy shit, Tim was right.

"And that's what bothers me about your relationship. Yeah, in the movies they always say to never give up, take the chance and go for it anyways, but sometimes, it just isn't worth it to pursue shit like that. If you never kissed him, if you never called him your boyfriend or used any pet-names or whatever, Bart would be able to recover more easily if we were caught. Knowing in his mind that he lost a friend instead of a lover. Let's face it, Jaime."

Jaime let out a sigh. "I know I shouldn't have." he admitted, "But it's too late now."

"It is." Tim agreed, "Of course, if this does go to plan and everything's well, then fine. Good. Nobody's hurt. But if it doesn't-"

"Yeah, yeah, I know." Jaime replied, getting the point.

"Gotta say, though, your relationship with him is the weirdest I've ever seen. _Andnotbecauseyou'regay,_ but you hated him." Tim said, "The big bad drug dealer and the innocent virgin drug-buyer. Who would've known?" he chuckled.

"Innocent virgin drug-buyer?" Jaime laughed.

"Well, technically, Bart hasn't even lost his drug-buying virginity. He got close, though."

"I didn't know drug-buying virginity was a thing." Jaime admitted.

"It is now." Tim insisted, "And by the way, did you guys ever… _y'know_ …"

 _"Tim!"_ Jaime hissed but laughed at the same time.

"Hey, it's a legitimate question!" Tim insisted.

Jaime sighed. "Do you want to know the truth?"

"Of course."

"Yes, lots of times."

"Haha, awesome." Tim snorted, "And doing it all behind the Kents backs? I'm impressed."

"Well, they did find out, actually." Jaime explained the whole situation to Tim, who listened with interest, "And even then, after they found out, we still snuck behind their backs."

"Holy shit. Now that's dedication. What do you call that? Hashtag-relationship-goals?" Tim asked, then just as he solved his Rubix cube, his face lit up. "Ooooh, I get it why you answered the question for Bart earlier now."

"Well yeah, no duh." Jaime retorted.

"You didn't like the idea of Jason fucking your boyfriend." Tim teased as he made the Rubix cube skewed again.

"And you don't like the idea of Jason fucking your girlfriend." Jaime shot back, "So what?"

"Except I just put that image in your head." Tim smirked.

Jaime was silent for a few moments. "Fuck you."

Tim laughed. "Good thing you marked your territory."

 _"Territory?_ Dios mío, Tim, I don't _own_ him."

"Ha. Okay, Mr. I-answered-a-question-directed-towards-my-boyfriend." Tim teased.

Jaime rolled his eyes and laughed, "Jason's not even that bad of a person. He seems pretty nice."

Tim's smile dropped. "You didn't _grow up_ with him." he mumbled. "He's only acting nice because we're giving him money."

Realizing that this may be a sensitive subject for Tim, Jaime dropped it. "Whatever. We should get going to bed. We have a busy day tomorrow."

"Surely. 'Night, Jaime."

"'Night, Tim."

 **MONDAY, MARCH 5TH**

Cassie burst through the door of the RV, waking up all of the boys. A panicked expression was on her face.

"Cass? What's wrong?" Tim asked, squinting his eyes.

 _"We need to run."_ She said quickly, gesturing for the boys to get out of the RV.

"What?" they all asked.

"Dick and Jason got into a fight. Jason got mad so he called the cops, and now they know where we are. Now get the fuck out of the RV because _we need to run."_

They were out within a matter of a second, running towards the woods behind Jason's house. Dick soon caught up with them. Police sirens wailed in the distance, pushing them to go further.

No, no, no! Jaime was _not_ going down like this! They had everything planned out! They were gonna be free!

Red and blue flashing lights neared them.

"Scatter! They can't catch us if we're separated!" Dick commanded.

Jaime felt a pang in his chest.

Dick, Cassie, and Tim all ran in one direction, whilst Jaime and Bart ran in the other. Bart was faster than him, obviously, and soon, he'd lose track of him.

Didn't matter. It was Bart the cops wanted. They wanted Jaime so they could throw him in jail, but Bart was Don's son.

He heard the cops yelling behind him, but he didn't focus on them too much. He was wondering if Bart had already ran far away, never to stop.

That didn't happen. He stayed back and waited for Jaime to catch up.

"Go." Jaime gasped as he leaned against a tree to catch his breath.

"I'm not leaving you." Bart insisted, "I'll go ahead, but I'm not leaving."

Just then, they heard bullets fly in the air, as well as a cry of pain from Dick. The cops had caught them. All Bart and Jaime could do now was run, and try to save themselves.

Bart continued to run, not looking where he was going. There wasn't really much of a choice in the matter, either, seeing as it was probably two or three in the morning and there was no sunlight. He tripped down a hill, his leg getting caught and snapped on a large tree root in the process. He let out a horrific cry of pain, far worse than the one from the barn.

Jaime raced after him, made sure to avoid the root that got to Bart, and found him curled in a ball, crying at the bottom of the hill.

"Shh," Jaime attempted to sooth him, "Let me see it."

Bart sniffed, uncurling so Jaime could see it.

Oh, _shit._ That was _bad._

It was out of place, bloody, and some of the bone stuck out, and it was overall mangled.

Jaime grabbed Bart's waist and pulled him up to hold him securely, comforting him. Bart continued to sob into his shoulder.

"Shh, Bart, it's okay." he tried to reassure.

It wasn't okay, and both of them knew that. Jaime continued to observe Bart's leg. "Bart," he finally said, "I need to carry you up."

"You _what?"_ Bart demanded.

"You could get a deadly infection from being exposed out here too long. You need to get to an emergency room _now."_

 _"No!"_ Bart protested, "They'll find me, Jaime. Eventually. _You need to run."_

 _"This isn't up for debate."_ Jaime informed him.

"Jaime, _please no."_ Bart cried, "No, _you can't do that._ _Please._ You'll be turning yourself in, _you don't understand."_

"I _do_ understand." Jaime replied, "I _know_ what'll happen. But you _need help."_

"Please, Blue, _please."_ Bart sobbed into him, "Don't do this to me. _Please don't do this to me."_

"I _have_ to, I'm sorry." Jaime had to hold back his own tears.

Bart continued to cry _"No."_ as Jaime grabbed his face and kissed him, tears flowing down his own face. They kissed and cried together, savoring the last moments, knowing damn well what was to come.

 _"I fucking love you. I love you so fucking much. I love you."_ Bart sobbed.

"I know, Bart. I love you, too."

He continued to cry when Jaime picked him up and trudged up the hill, muttering incoherent things. He saw the flashlights of a few officers, and called out "Hey!"

They spun towards him, hands on their guns, ready to draw them out.

 _"Don't shoot!_ He needs to go to the hospital!" Jaime shouted, all the while tears were spilling out of his face like a fucking waterfall. Three officers approached him guns down but drawn, taking one look at Bart's leg and wincing. Two of the officers took him out of Jaime's arms, while the third stayed with Jaime.

"You're under arrest." she said.

"I know." Jaime sighed, defeated, allowing her to cuff him, all the while watching his sobbing boyfriend be driven away in a police car.

He knew he did the right thing.

He just didn't know if he'd ever see Bart again.


	17. Chapter 17

**WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER:**

 **-homophobia**

* * *

 _They set out from the Midwest and went down. Bart watched through a window from the RV as the flat, open fields began to turn into hills and too many trees to count._

 _Where were they now, anyways?_

 _"Arkansas." Tim answered._

 _Bart didn't realize he even asked the question out loud. He could feel himself dozing off, the sunset from the outside rather relaxing._

 _He woke up the next morning to the skies of Texas._

 _He smiled, knowing they were so close to freedom._

* * *

Bart woke up in a hospital, a tight cast around his left leg. The artificial lights were annoyingly bright, something he was no longer used to.

He suddenly remembered what happened, and his heart sank in his chest.

Right. Caught by the police. Jaime was gone.

He let tears stream silently down his face.

It was over.

He admitted defeat.

The door to the room squeaked open, and Don and Meloni made their way into the room. Bart pretended not to notice them.

He never wanted to have to look at his dad in the face again.

"Bart," he said gently. _Too_ gently. It was a fake gentleness- it was rage masked beneath a calm demeanor.

"Yes?" Bart's disused voice croaked.

"Why'd you do it?"

Bart frowned. "You wanted to beat the fag out of me, that's why."

"I'm sorry." Don apologized after a few moments, "I was shocked, scared, and didn't know how to react. I'm not actually mad about it."

 _"Right."_ Bart rolled his eyes, not believing the bullshit.

"Bart-"

"Enough, Don." Meloni commanded. Don shut up immediately. Meloni sighed, "Bart, we need to know where the hell you've been."

"No."

It was a simple answer.

Meloni and Don were silent.

"I told you, Meloni." Don said after about a minute, "Kids these days… no respect, no dignity. Bart, we already know where you were. The Kent farm."

Bart looked up at him, "Who told?"

"Jason Todd."

Bart sighed, letting his head fall back on his bed, _"Of course."_

"We're gonna be sending you to therapy." Meloni warned, "To get your life back on track."

Bart let out a groan of frustration, "When?" he asked afterwards.

"In three weeks, you'll have your first appointment with her."

 _"Awesome."_ Bart's sarcasm was enough to fill a room.

"Bart, you know you're doing this because we love you." Don said.

"Uhuh. Can I ask you guys a question?" Bart asked.

"Of course, sweetie." his mother replied.

"What's gonna happen to Jaime, Dick, Cassie, Tim, and the Kents?"

"They'll all be spending a long time in jail." Don promised. Bart let out another groan. "You don't seem too happy about this."

"I'm not." Bart snapped, "What, did you expect me to be _excited?"_

"I expected you _not to care."_ Don admitted. "Why _do_ you care?"

"They were my _friends!"_

There was silence for a few moments.

"You mean you _thought_ they were your friends." Don insisted.

"You have no idea _what the fuck_ I've been through with them, _Dad."_ Bart grumbled, "So shut your _fucking trap."_

Bart had never seen Don so shocked and offended.

 _"You disrespectful little shit-"_

"Don, _enough!_ This will _not_ be happening here!" Meloni demanded.

"You're grounded until you're eighteen." Don insisted, "And when you turn finish high school, you're _out_ of my fucking house."

"Oh, great. Three more years of absolute _torture."_ Bart spat.

Don glared at him before getting up and exiting, and Meloni followed. Bart could hear them bicker from outside the room.

 _"Meloni, I can't take this. I regret having him."_

 _"Don!"_

 _"I'm serious! First he's gay, and now_ this _bullshit? He's everything an Allen_ shouldn't _be!"_

 _"He's a_ child, _Don. He's bound to be problematic."_

 _"Children don't run away from home for_ six months!"

Bart decided he no longer wanted to listen, because he felt like throwing up.

x

It'd only been a few hours since getting caught, but it felt like years to Jaime as he sat in the holding cell.

He missed Bart already.

He wanted nothing more than to just hug and kiss him, hold him there forever.

But that wasn't going to happen.

How'd things go so wrong so fast?

Who was to blame?

He didn't know anymore.

 **TUESDAY, MARCH 6TH**

"Jaime..." Bianca trailed off, unable to say anymore.

"How's Milagro?" Jaime asked, folding his arms.

The question threw Bianca off, "She's okay."

"Any new boyfriends?"

"Not that I know of." Bianca chuckled, "Oh Jaime, you're such a good brother, thinking of your sister even after all of this."

"I'd rather think about her than-" _Bart,_ Jaime thought, "-than my friends. It hurts less."

"I'm sorry, mi hijo." Bianca apologized, "I don't have the money to bail you out. But I'll try to visit you as often as possible."

"Yeah, do that." Jaime nodded. The last thing he needed was to be alone in this.

"I missed you, you know. My son." Bianca nodded and bit her lip, "I thought you were dead. I was scared I lost you, too. Milagro was in a near-death accident not too long ago, and-"

"What?"

"She was hit by a car." Bianca finished.

"¡Dios mío!" Jaime exclaimed, "Is she alright?"

"She had a few fractured bones." Bianca explained, "The hospital bill hurt more." she let out a small chuckle.

Jaime narrowed his eyes, "Uh, just how much money do you guys have right now?"

"Not enough." Bianca sighed, "Well, Jaime, speaking of which, I have to get going to work. Bye, hijo. I'll be back soon enough, okay?"

Jaime nodded, "Okay."

 **TUESDAY, MARCH 20TH**

Jail was not only incredibly boring, but it overall just sucked, too.

Jaime had been so used to being out in the fresh air and eating healthy crops, that he couldn't stand being locked up in a cell and eating disgusting food, waiting for his court date, which was due in two or so months.

Even though his mom (and Milagro) only visited one time since his mom first stopped by, he wasn't exactly alone. He got a cellmate. His name was Tye. Tye was pretty mellow, but he really hated his mom's boyfriend, and was put in jail for blowing up his car.

All the while, during this time period, the voices continued to yell at Jaime. Jaime couldn't do anything. He didn't have Bart.

x

Bart spent the next few weeks going through physical therapy to repair his leg. He also met with the school counselors, and learned that he was going to need to repeat freshman year for missing out on so much stuff, but he could take some classes in the summer to catch up.

After school got out in two months, he'd start Algebra and History I.

When he finally got home from the hospital, things were too quiet. Breakfasts and dinners were filled with dead silences. There were no more "good morning"s or "goodnight"s. There was only dead silence, followed with intense, hate-filled stares.

It had been one of the first few nights back at his house when it happened.

A thump tore Bart out of his sleep. He got up, rubbing his head, looking around.

Nothing.

A second thump was heard.

Confused and slightly scared, he tried to track down the noise.

A third thump.

He realized it was coming from his window. Or near it, at least. He pulled it open, scanning the outdoors, the faint moonlight providing him some assistance. He saw a figure in black standing in his front yard, and he felt his heart drop into his stomach.

"Bart!" the figure whispered.

Bart took a second to recognize who it was.

 _"Dick?"_ he whispered back.

"Yeah, come on down here man!" Dick encouraged, making a hand gesture along with it.

"What? No!" Bart shook his head. "I can't get out the front door without my parents hearing."

"Then just go through the window!"

He thought about it for a moment. His leg was still healing.

Fuck it. He hadn't seen Dick in what felt like forever.

Taking out the screen and quietly placing it on the floor, he crawled onto the roof and balanced himself, slowing descending himself down towards the tree nearby, all the while making sure not to put too much pressure on his injured leg. Once he got close enough, he bent down and grabbed a branch, then climbed down to meet Dick. He then pulled him aside to a darker area so nobody would spot them.

"How's my favorite motherfucker tonight?" Dick teased. Bart rolled his eyes and playfully hit him.

"Confused, actually. How'd you find out where I lived? And aren't you supposed to… I don't know… _be in jail?"_

"Well, first off, they really didn't have any reason to keep me there, because I didn't break the law- had no drugs on me- gave 'em all to Jason. Anyways, I found out what your dad's working hours and days of the week were from a few bad-boys. What's that on your leg?"

"A cast. My leg is broken." Bart grinned.

"Your leg is broken? Fuck, you should've told me, Bart! Then I wouldn't have made you climb out the window." Dick insisted.

"Well, I'm already out. Anyways, 'bad-boys'?" Bart asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Muggers, dealers, you know the deal. Being a former dealer myself, I knew these bad-boys. These people purposely went out of their way to avoid your dad while he was on duty, so they figured out when he works by themselves. I got the info off of them." Dick explained.

"And they asked for nothing in return for the information?" Bart asked, still confused.

"Nah, they did." Dick nodded and laughed a little.

"How much money did they want?" Bart asked, "I mean, I'll repay you whatever amount you gave them." he promised.

"I don't have any money. I had to compromise." Dick said.

"Then what the hell did you give them? Weed?"

"Starts with a B and ends with a J." Dick hinted.

Bart froze, _"Oh."_ he said. "Jesus Christ, Dick."

"So, when're you gonna repay me?" Dick asked as he pulled out and lit up a cigarette, snickering in the process. "Oh, and by the way my truck is down the street, so we can-"

"I'm _not_ blowing you in your car!" Bart hissed, his face red.

Dick let out a shrill laugh that echoed across the night sky, and he then covered his mouth with his free hand. "-so we can hang out at my house if you want to." he finished, then continued to laugh into his hand.

"Oh." Bart said once again, more embarrassed than ever. "Well, you blew the bad-boys, and you found out my dad's working hours, but what's next?"

"Since I knew when he worked, I waited for him to leave one day. I watched him walk into his car and drive away. I followed him discretely, like a spy."

Bart nodded in acknowledgement.

"I wrote down your address on a napkin, then returned later. I pretty much stalked your house for a few days, observing what happened. Eventually I figured out whose bedroom was whose." Dick continued to explain his story, "Then I decided to act when everyone was asleep. Originally, I threw rocks at your window, but then I realized that was fuckin' stupid because it's the twenty-first century and people have window screens. So I threw them at the siding instead."

"Didn't think you were the detective type, Dick." Bart admitted, impressed.

"Well I'm a fuckin' genius." Dick insisted, then pulled a crumpled paper out of his pocket and handed it to Bart. Bart uncrumpled it and looked at the writing on it. "That's my address." Dick explained, "If you ever want to sneak out during the night and visit me, that's where I am." he finished.

"Oh, cool. Thanks, man. You don't know happy this makes me."

"So, do you want to come over?" Dick asked, putting out his cigarette.

"What time is it? I don't have my phone anymore." Bart asked and explained.

"I don't have a phone, either. I guess the only way to find out is to go into the car and turn it on, then look at the clock there."

"Fine." Bart admitted defeat, "Let's go."

Dick grinned, guiding Bart quickly to the old truck that looked like it was about to break down. They hopped in, and Dick turned on the engine. It was 1:32 in the morning.

"Have me back by four." Bart told him, and Dick nodded in acknowledgement as he began to drive away. He eventually pulled up to a ratty looking house in the same poor neighborhood he lived in last time, but this time the house was in even worse shape. Dick pulled into the driveway and entered the house with Bart.

There was a lamp in the main room, providing the only light. No ceiling fan. A young blonde woman was sleeping on the couch, her limbs sprawled everywhere. At the sound of Dick and Bart's entrance, she began to wake up.

"This is my roommate, Stephanie." Dick whispered to Bart.

"Hi." Bart nervously smiled and waved.

"Mmm, what's up?" she mumbled before rolling back to sleep. Dick laughed a bit, and lead Bart to the small kitchen, opening up the fridge and tossing him a beer. Bart opened the bottle with his teeth, nearly chipping them in the process, and he took a swig.

"So, what's life been like since being caught?" Dick asked as he sat down in one of the cheap plastic chairs that were surrounding a flimsy table. Bart sat down as well.

"Shit." he said, taking another swig.

"I could tell." Dick commented, drinking his own beer.

"I just want Jaime back," Bart whined and looked down, "I fucking hate it. I fucking hate that I have to see a therapist now."

"You do?" Dick asked, raising an eyebrow and sipping his beer.

"Yeah." Bart confirmed, nodding grimly. "I have my first appointment with her in a few days."

"Damn, motherfucker." Dick sympathized with him. He stood up, walking over to the fridge again and pulled out vodka. He poured some in a red solo cup, offering it to Bart. He gladly accepted.

"I want to be at the farm again." Bart mumbled.

"I know, man. I do, too." Dick nodded.

"I miss Jaime so fucking much." Bart felt the tears brimming at his eyes, "It's not fair. It's _not fucking fair."_

"I know, Bart. You loved him."

"I did." Bart wiped away the potential tears, "And now I don't have him. I don't have _anybody_ from the fucking farm. The Kents are in jail. Roy's in jail. Tim is in jail. Jaime is in jail. Cassie is in jail. Everybody's in _fucking jail!"_ he screamed.

"Except _I'm_ not."

"Only because they didn't catch you with weed." Bart insisted.

"But I'm here, no?" Dick asked.

"Yeah, I guess. Sorry." Bart nodded, sniffling. "Can I have a hug?"

"Yeah, you can." Dick said, and they got up, Dick holding Bart securely in his arms, Bart trying not to cry.

"Everything's gonna be okay, Bart." Dick reassured, "They'll get out, eventually."

"But _when?"_

"I don't know." Dick admitted, "But all we can do right now is hold on, alright?"

"Okay." Bart agreed, "But Dick?"

"Hmm?"

"You're not gonna make me suck your dick in repayment, are you?"

Dick let out another shrill laugh. "Nah, Bart. I think I'll let that slide."

Bart couldn't help but smile as he separated their hug.

x

The sun wasn't rising just yet. It was still pitch black when Dick pulled up near Bart's house.

"Can you stop by at 1:30 on the twenty-third? Really, we need to hang out again."

"Of course." Dick promised. Bart gave him a smile and a nod before opening the car door and exiting.

"Bye, motherfucker." Dick said as he left. Bart continued to smile as he closed the door behind him and Dick drove off. He made his way up the tree and onto the roof again, before getting into his room and putting the screen back in. He shut his window, closed his blinds, and was about to take off his shoes when he realized he wasn't wearing any. Stripping out of the basketball shorts he wore instead, he hopped into his bed, and fell asleep almost instantly.

He slept knowing there was at least a small tint of hope in his life.

 **FRIDAY, MARCH 23RD**

Tye asks Jaime why he yells at himself.

Jaime replies that he has a voice in his head and that it won't shut up.

"That sucks." was Tye's response and he rolled over to look at the gray wall.

x

Dick picks Bart up at 1:30 and drives him off to his his house.

Bart enters to Stephanie talking.

"Alright, by babe, love you." she said before ending her Skype call. She looked over to Dick and Bart. "Hey!"

"What's up, Steph? Talking to Kori again?" Dick teased.

"You're only jealous because she's your ex." Steph teased back and folded her arms.

"Maybe a little." Dick smirked, "This is Bart, by the way."

Bart gave a shy wave.

"Go in my bedroom and find a movie, they're on a shelf next to my bed. I'll make popcorn." Dick said. Bart nodded before leaving.

Steph frowned.

"What?" Dick asked.

 _"Please_ tell me he's not one of those high schoolers you're boning."

"Agh, Steph, _no!_ I'm six years older than him!" Dick replied.

"Like _you_ care about age gaps." Steph rolled her eyes, "Then why's he here, at 1:42 in the morning for fuck's sake?"

"We're friends. I already told you the story. He's Bart Allen, Don's kid." Dick replied. Steph still frowned.

"And what would it be like for Don Allen to find out he's been sneaking out in the night to hang out with you?"

"We'd be fucked." Dick laughed. Bart walked out of Dick's bedroom, holding _Hot Rod_ in his hand.

"Where's the popcorn?" he asked.

"Oh shit, sorry, Stephanie sidetracked me." Dick muttered. He went to find popcorn, and Steph closed her laptop and began to walk off to her bedroom.

"'Night," she said to them, "don't be too loud, please." she closed the door behind her.

Dick ignored her and popped in the movie, then grabbed the popcorn and gave Bart a separate bowl. They had beer for a drink, and overall a good time watching the movie. They still had some time to spare when the movie was finished, so they played a few games, and told a few jokes and stories before it was time for Bart to go back home.

"See you next Friday, Dick." was all he said when he shut the car door and began to make his way back to his house.

 **TUESDAY, MARCH 27TH**

"Bartholomew Allen?"

Bart's head snapped up at the sound of his name. A blonde haired woman with blue eyes stood in the doorway leading to the hallway that held all of the therapists' rooms, and she smiled. He began to walk towards her, and she guided him towards her room. She shut the door behind him, and he sat down in a surprisingly comfy chair.

The room was different than he expected. He expected it to be like a hospital room but smaller, with hard chairs and bright lights. The room gave off a cozy glow from a lamp in the corner, and there were even tissues on a small table next to him along with mints in a bowl. Still, despite the warm atmosphere, he couldn't help but feel anxiety begin to swell in him.

"Hi, I'm Dinah Queen, and I'll be your therapist from now on. I already know what happened, so you won't have to explain too much. I still have a few questions, however." she explained as she grabbed a pen, paper, and clipboard. "Are you okay with me asking?"

Bart nodded quietly.

"First off, have you ever been in therapy before?"

Bart shook his head.

Dinah nodded in acknowledgement, "Are you currently taking any prescription medications?"

Bart shook his head again.

"Have you took any long-term prescription medications in the past? Long term meaning over two months, by the way."

Another shaken head.

"And you're fifteen, correct?"

Bart nodded.

"Okay, now I have some questions about your experience at the farm." Dinah warned.

"Is it really any of your business?" Bart snapped out of fear. He knew it was her business- she was his therapist.

"Bart, it's okay to talk about it." she reassured, "And in case you didn't know, I'm Roy's stepmother. I've talked to him, too."

"Really?" Bart asked, surprised. Dinah nodded.

"Okay, first question." she said, "What encouraged you to run away in the first place?"

Bart bit his lip. "I'm not comfortable answering that."

Dinah narrowed her eyebrows, "Is there a reason why, Bart?"

"It'd just stir up too much unnecessary drama." Bart explained.

"Well, running away, especially for as long as you did, is a big deal. I don't believe there's such thing as unnecessary drama in your case." Dinah insisted.

Bart sighed, "Well, to make things clear, first off, I'm gay."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, and I told my dad that morning before I ran away. He wanted to talk to my mom. He said he'd beat the fag out of me when I got home from school. It scared me, so I figured running away with Tim, Jaime, and Cassie was my best option." Bart explained.

Dinah wrote something down on her paper, then looked back up at Bart. "Has your father ever hit or beaten you?"

"Not yet- _I mean,_ no." Bart said.

She wrote something else down.

"Your first few days in the hospital, your parents reported you crying for Jaime Reyes and a person named 'Blue' of the group, screaming for them to help you. Why's this?"

Bart sat silent for a moment. Had he really done that? "He saved my life. Jaime did. He carried me up to the cops when my leg was broken and allowed himself to get arrested."

"That was a very noble thing of him to do." Dinah commented.

"It was." Bart agreed.

"Were you friends with any of these people you ran off with?" Dinah asked.

"All of them." Bart replied.

"Did you become friends with them before or after running off?"

"After."

"Hmm, what happened at the farm to make that happen?" Dinah asked curiously.

"We worked together, and since we worked together, we talked. We got to know each other and realized that we weren't too different." he sighed, "They're good people, Dinah. They were just trying to make a living. Jaime, for example, his dad died and his mother lost her job. That's why he was in the whole drug dealing fiasco."

"Are you sure Jaime wasn't lying to you?"

"Absolutely. I mean, there's no reason as to why he'd lie."

"There are a few reasons, for example, he may have been trying to justify his lifestyle choices." Dinah explained.

Bart shook his head, "No. He wouldn't lie."

"If you insist." Dinah said, "What made you trust him so much?"

"Well, we shared a room, so we talked and worked together a lot. He also saved my life once while at the farm." Bart explained.

"Oh?" Dinah asked, hinting for him to tell the tale.

"It was the dead of winter. I had an anxiety attack and ran off, I ended up falling in a frozen pond. He chased after me, jumped in the pond and rescued me right before I drowned." Bart told his story.

"What triggered this panic attack?"

Bart frowned. "He walked in on me cutting."

"You self-harmed?" Dinah raised an eyebrow.

"I have been for almost four years."

"So you're still doing it now?"

Bart looked down. "Yeah… but please don't tell my parents."

"I can't promise anything, Bart. I will ask questions about your self-harming later, though." Dinah warned. Bart nodded.

"So when Jaime saved you, what did he think of your self-harming? Did he care at all?"

"Well, at first, he made me promise to stop doing it. After I didn't, he made me throw my knife in the same pond I almost drowned in."

"Oh?" Dinah asked, and she held back a laugh. "You seemed to be in very good relations with Jaime."

"I was. I totally miss him." Bart admitted.

Dinah bit her lip, "Were you ever more than just friends?"

Bart felt himself begin to panic, "Just because I'm gay doesn't mean I can't have male friends." he said defensively.

"I don't mean it like that, Bart. I asked because by the way you're describing him, he seemed to care for you a lot. And you seem to care for him. Can you please answer my question with a yes or no?" Dinah asked in a gentle tone.

Bart sighed, "Yes." he admitted, "And yes, I know he's eighteen, but please don't tell my-"

"Hmm," Dinah said, "Now, I don't want to sound intrusive, but this question I'm about to ask you contributes to your health. That being, did you ever engage in any activity with him, the activities being anal and/or oral sex?"

Bart wanted nothing more than to just melt into the floor. "Yes." he mumbled.

"Well, Bart, I won't ask you what you've done specifically, because that's not my business, but did you use a condom during these activities?"

"No… we didn't have any."

Dinah sighed, "Bart, you should probably go get tested."

"I don't have an STD!" Bart said defensively.

"You won't know unless you get tested." Dinah informed, "Did you have any previous sexual partners before Jaime?"

"No."

"Did he have any previous sexual partners before you?"

"He said he got a blowjob from a meth-head girl when he was sixteen." Bart informed.

"And what if he got an STD from her, then passed it onto you?" Dinah asked.

"I never put that into thought." Bart admitted, and sighed. "Promise you won't tell about my relationship with Jaime?"

"As long as you promise me to get tested."

"How do I get tested?"

"You need to book an appointment with your doctor or a sexual health clinic and tell them you want to get tested for any STD." Dinah explained.

"I don't have the money to pay for an appointment." Bart mumbled.

"Which means…" Dinah began.

"I'll have to tell my parents." Bart grumbled, "But what if everything comes back as negative? It wouldn't be worth it!"

"It's better to be safe than sorry." Dinah argued.

"I'd be sorry if my parents found out I had sex with a man!" Bart exclaimed.

"They know you're gay, correct?" Dinah asked.

"Yeah…"

"So wouldn't they expect you to have sex with a man if you asked them to book you an appointment to get tested?" Dinah asked.

"Doesn't matter. They don't even like me being attracted to guys. Much less would they be okay with me having sex with them. And Jaime would get into so much trouble, him being eighteen and all." Bart explained.

"So don't tell them it was Jaime. Don't disclose who you did it with." Dinah suggested.

"I guess." Bart mumbled.

"So, promise to get yourself tested?" Dinah asked. Bart nodded grimly. She then moved onto self-harm questions, and Bart explained everything he could, to the best of his ability. When he started, why he started, what methods he used, the time he nearly died and stayed in the mental hospital, the brief period of him stopping then starting again, then all leading up to the events with Jaime, and how he started again once he got home.

They ended their session on a relatively good note.

"Goodbye, Bart. See you next week." Dinah smiled as Bart exited the room.

 **WEDNESDAY, MARCH 28TH**

"Mom? Can I ask something?" Bart asked at the breakfast table the next day. His mother put down the newspaper and looked at him.

"Yes, Bart? What is it?"

Bart took a deep breath. "Can I, _uh, er-_ can you schedule an appointment at the doctor's for me? To get, um, _tested."_

Meloni looked at him, frozen. "What are you implying?" she finally asked.

"I, _um,_ may have done some stuff, while I was away, that I, _uh,_ probably shouldn't have." Bart explained.

"Are you telling me you had sex?"

 _"Just once!_ I mean, _yeah._ I wasn't thinking. I'm sorry, Mom. Let's just please not make a big deal out of this and-"

 _"You had sex?"_

"Yes, I _did!_ I _told_ you already!" Bart snapped.

"Oh my god, _Bartholomew!"_ she cried, burying her face in her hands. _"Why?_ Why would you hurt us like this?"

"I didn't _mean it!"_

"You didn't _mean it?!"_

"Er, well, _yeah,_ I obviously _meant_ it- at the time, I mean, but _still!"_

"What's going on down here?" a voice from the top of the stairs demanded. Meloni continued to cry. Don made his way down the steps, and Bart knew it was all going to go downhill from here.

"Bart had sex while he was gone!" Meloni cried, "He carelessly gave himself away!"

Don's eyes narrowed, and Bart could feel the powerful strike of his father's hand across his face. He let out a yelp of pain. Meloni began to contain herself.

"You fucking _whore!"_ Don yelled, and Bart held his face, trying to hold back his tears. Don grabbed Bart by the collar of his shirt. "I bet you let your faggot ass get fucked by every boy on that goddamn farm, _didn't you?"_

"What?! _No!_ I didn't!"

"Like I fucking believe you." Don grumbled.

"No, Dad, It was just Jaime, I _swear!_ I didn't-" Bart stopped himself, realizing what he had done. _"N-no! I mean-"_

 _"Just Jaime,_ huh?" Don said, letting him go and turning around to go look for his keys.

"Dad, _no!_ Don't hurt him!" Bart didn't care about the tears spilling down his face, and he watched in horror when Don finally found them and began stomping towards the front door. "No! Dad, _stop!"_ he kept crying, and in desperation, he tried to snatch the keys, but was only shoved to the ground. He tried again when Don got outside, but left with the same result, except this time he had a few cuts from landing on the concrete.

"Quit trying to stop me, son. That's not happening." Don grumbled, "Your boyfriend should feel lucky if he falls asleep tonight _without_ a few broken bones." he got into his car, and Bart watched with horror as he pulled out of the driveway and sped off.

Bart sat there, not knowing what else to do but curl up and cry.

And hope that Jaime would end up being okay.

Though, Bart knew it already; he wouldn't.


	18. Chapter 18

**WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER:**

 **-homophobia**

 **-(mild) violence**

* * *

"We need to talk. About Bart."

Jaime's head snapped up as he saw Don on the other side of the cell.

His heart sank. "I-is there something wrong, señor?"

 _"I think you know."_

The words were harsh, cold, and sharp, and Jaime flinched at the sound of them. Accepting his fate, he allowed Don to handcuff him and guide him to his office, where he sat him down on a chair. Don took another chair and sat across him, glaring daggers into him.

The voice in Jaime's head was screaming at him, but he ignored it. He was too preoccupied and anxious to listen.

"So," Don began, "Would you like to tell me what you've done with Bart?"

Jaime looked at the ground, not responding.

 _"Talk,_ Reyes."

No response.

 _"Admit to your crime, you bastard."_

Still, Jaime was silent.

"Jaime Reyes, I _swear to god-"_

Jaime snapped.

"Fine! I had sex with him, alright? Is _this_ what you wanted to hear? _Are you happy now?"_

Don looked at him with wide eyes for a moment, before Jaime registered the fact that his nose hurt like hell and there was blood spilling out of it. He brought his cuffed hands up to his nose to try and stop the bleeding, and he let out a groan of pain.

Don Allen sat back down.

Jaime sighed, looking at Don with tired eyes. "Okay, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for snapping like that and I'm sorry for what I did."

"You're sorry? Are you _really_ sorry for what you did, or sorry that you got caught?"

"I knew it was wrong, but _please,_ don't blame Bart. It's not his fault." Jaime responded quietly.

"Not his fault, huh? Why would he have no fault in this? Did you rape him, Reyes?"

"What?! _No!_ Everything was consensual, I swear to god." Jaime promised, looking at Don with fear in his eyes.

"Then how is it not at least _partially_ his fault?" Don challenged.

"I- I uh, kissed him first. Initiated the whole thing." Jaime explained. He didn't lie, at least.

"So, you, an _eighteen year old,_ knowingly kissed _a_ _fifteen year old_ boy?"

Jaime sighed, "Sí."

"And then you proceeded to have sex with him."

"Well, no." Jaime said, and Don looked at him with a flicker of curiosity. "That came a few weeks after our first kiss."

"And what encouraged you to wait so long?"

"He wasn't ready."

"I'm surprised you held yourself back, Reyes," Don admitted, "but of course, rape charges are no fun, are they?"

"I don't have sex with people who don't want to." Jaime grumbled.

"You're already a criminal, I wouldn't be surprised if you took it a step further. They often do." Don brought up, beginning to lose his patience.

"You're comparing _selling weed_ to _traumatizing_ somebody!" Jaime accused. He could see Don clench his fists.

 _"Well,"_ he growled, really starting to lose his patience. "Regardless of whether or not he said yes or no, the situation _was_ statutory rape. He legally _could not consent._ You're a _pedophile."_

Jaime let out a groan, throwing his head back. "I'm not a pedophile!"

Don was about to boil over. "The law says otherwise, Reyes."

"That's not the point!" Jaime insisted.

"You fucked _my son!"_ Don finally snapped, his voice sounding angry yet heartbroken at the same time, and Jaime swore he could see tears brimming in his eyes. The words stung Jaime more than he'd like to admit. Something about Don using 'my son' instead of 'Bart' made it hurt more. Maybe it made it feel more personal, Jaime didn't know. Maybe it reminded Jaime exactly who he was dealing with- not Don Allen, but Bart's father. _"My fifteen year old son!_ Stripped him of his innocence- his virginity! You boned someone who is _a fucking child!_ _My child!"_ Don continued to yell. _He misunderstood,_ Jaime noted. He thought Jaime was a child molester who took advantage of a young and naive teenage boy. Of course, that wasn't the case. He doubted Don would believe him, however. Still, it'd be worth a shot.

"We didn't just have sex, y'know! We cared for each other! And Bart's hardly a kid!" Jaime exclaimed in defense, "Don't you get it, hombre? I _loved_ him!"

Don was silent for a few moments, and his eye twitched. He then let out a laugh, "You're joking, right? Faggots can't love."

Something inside Jaime snapped once again, but the force was much stronger this time. Without even thinking, he let out a howl of rage and lunged at Don, pushing him and his chair back onto the floor. He began to beat him with both of his fists (as they were cuffed at the wrists), not caring where he struck. Don managed to put Jaime in a neck hold, and squeezed so it would cut off his air supply. Jaime gave in after a few seconds, and Don let go, leaving Jaime on the floor, gasping for air.

"Fucking insane bastard." Don muttered as he stood up. "You know how long you can get put in jail for attacking a police officer?" he asked.

"N-no." Jaime replied after he finally caught his breath and sat up.

"You wouldn't want to find out." Don muttered, and his eyes met Jaime's. "I think I'd rather take care of this the old fashioned way, however."

"What does that mea-" Jaime was cut off by a surging pain all throughout his body, it almost felt as if it was being eaten by lightning. He let out a cry, and fell back to the floor. "Señor Allen, _please."_ he begged, "I didn't do anything bad to Bart, I loved him, I _swear."_ He heard an angry growl, followed by a second zap of pain going into his body. He gasped for air once it was gone. "Can you stop tazing me, please? I really cared for him, I even saved-" he yelped as he was suddenly lifted off the ground by his shirt, and he found himself looking directly in the green eyes of Don Allen.

 _"Shut. Your. Fucking. Trap."_

Jaime let out another yelp as he was dropped back onto the floor.

"Don."

"That's sheriff Allen to you." Don informed, glaring at Jaime.

 _"Don."_

"Shut the fuck up before I make it so you can't move your jaw, Reyes."

Jaime was quiet for a few moments and looked away.

"I'm in love with your son."

He could hear Don growl and clench his fists, though he refrained from punching Jaime.

"I just stopped myself from hitting you back there. You should feel lucky."

"I do feel lucky. But, I'm still in love with Bart." Jaime insisted.

Don rolled his eyes, "Yeah, whatever. I hope you realize I'm pressing charges regardless of your lovey-dovey bullshit."

Jaime let out another groan of frustration, then sighed. "Please, hombre. My family can't afford any charges. We're poor enough as is. Throw me in prison for as long as you want, just don't bring my family's money into this."

"Oh, I _do_ want to throw you into prison- a high security one at that." Don admitted, "You're a good-looking young man, Reyes. And I know you know what happens to good-looking young men in prison."

The color in Jaime's face disappeared. "Wait, what? _N-no!_ You _can't_ do that!" he yelled, but he was begging by now.

"I _can,_ and I want to. I want you to experience _exactly_ what you did to Bart." Don grumbled, then smiled, "But, I won't."

"Huh?"

"No," Don continued to smile and bent down on one knee, "look at me, Reyes."

Jaime hesitantly did.

"Like father, like son. Don't I look an awful lot like Bart?" Don asked.

"Sure, I guess." Jaime admitted.

 _"Exactly."_ Don let out a happy hiss, "I want to keep your here for as long as possible, Jaime. So you can look at me _every single day,_ and be reminded of what you can't have."

"I-" Jaime stopped himself, observing more details of Don's face. He really did look like Bart. "Don't do that, please." he simply begged. "It's hard enough already. Please."

Don smirked- it was like Bart's smirk, but it wasn't. There was so much hatred behind this one, not love and affection.

"You're getting exactly what you deserve. Anyways, come on now." Don said softly as he pulled Jaime to his feet, "It's a nice talk we had. I'll walk you back to your cell, _Blue."_

Jaime's heart sank in his chest for a second time.

"You're a monster, you know that?" he whispered, his breath ragged.

"I beg to differ." Don chuckled.

"Don't call me that." Jaime said as they continued to walk back, "Don't call me Blue."

"I'll call you whatever the hell I want." Don said once they finally returned, and he shoved Jaime back in his cell before locking it once again. "Saw that you were an artist, Reyes." Don said from the other side, "Mr. Todd dropped off all of you and your friends' stuff at the station here this morning, your drawings included. It would be such a shame if somebody were to… I don't know… burn them, maybe?"

 _"No!"_ Jaime yelled, running up to his cell door and trying to break it, but to no avail. Don only laughed. He began to walk away, before stopping himself.

"Oh, and by the way," Don's tone turned dark, "while your drawings are rather adorable, let's be real. You- nor Bart- are superheroes by any means."

Jaime watched with horror as Don walked away, a smile on his face.

Just then, the voice in his head spoke its first real sentence.

 _When you have the chance, kill him._

x

"What'd you do to Jaime?" Bart demanded.

"Nothing that's any of your concern." Don insisted, walking past his son and putting the keys back on the key rack.

"It _is_ my concern." Bart insisted, "He's my boyfr-"

"Don't you _dare_ finish that sentence." Don hissed. "He was _not."_

Bart frowned. "He _was."_

"I think we need to have a talk, Bart." Don sighed, sitting down at the dining table.

Bart rolled his eyes, but sat down on the other end.

"Look, I _know_ it's difficult to keep things in your pants sometimes."

"You're giving me the sex talk _now?"_ Bart grumbled.

"It's _not_ the sex talk." Don frowned, "I just want you to promise me something."

"Oh?" Bart raised an eyebrow.

"Bart, promise me, please, that you'll refrain from having sex with anybody until you're eighteen." Don said, "It's very scary for me and your mother knowing that you could've picked up a disease from some stranger."

"Being eighteen doesn't make me exempt from STDs." Bart responded dryly.

"No, it doesn't. Being eighteen makes you an adult who can decide what risks he wants to take." Don responded just as dryly. "You're still a kid."

Bart sighed. "Yeah, sure. But I told you and Mom about what happened, isn't that responsible for a kid?"

"It is." Don said, "That's why we're getting you tested to make sure Jaime didn't give you anything."

"I doubt he did." Bart muttered.

"You're the one who asked for the testing." Don pointed out.

"I know," Bart acknowledged, "I know."

"So, Bart, do you promise?"

"I promise, Dad. I swear I won't anymore."

"Good." was all Don replied before getting up and leaving.

x

A harsh knock was heard on Bianca's door. Quickly, she got up from her seat, saying "Coming!" as she approached the door.

"Oh, Officer Allen!" she said.

"May I come in, Mrs. Reyes?" he said, a professional tone to his voice.

"Oh? What's wrong?" a look of concern spread across Bianca's face.

Officer Allen sighed, "You may want to sit down for this."

Bianca allowed him inside, and Don asked "May I?" before Bianca offered him a seat.

"Is your husband home? He needs to hear about this."

Bianca frowned. "He's dead. He died four and a half years ago."

"Oh, I'm sorry!" Don quickly apologized, "Alberto Reyes, was he? Yeah, I think I remember now. Well… I guess that makes sense." he muttered.

"¿Qué?" Bianca asked.

Don shook his head. "Never mind. Anyways, Mrs. Reyes, it's about Jaime."

"Oh?"

"I found out this morning that he, er- had sexual relations with my son during their time away."

Mrs. Reyes looked like she'd just seen a ghost. She was too shocked to respond.

"I know, I know." Don sympathized, "And the thing that you may not know, Mrs. Reyes, is that Bart is fifteen. And of course, you'd know Jaime is eighte-"

 _"¡Ese idiota! ¡Lo mataré! ¡Jaime, tú estúpido, estúpido, idiota!"_ Bianca yelled.

"Ma'am, are you alright?" Don asked.

 _"No!"_ Bianca yelled, looking ready to cry, "He is an idiot! Bart is _fifteen?_ Oh my god."

"It's illegal, I'm sure you're well aware." Don said, "Which is why I'm planning upon pressing charges against him. He already confessed to the crime, got it on record-"

Bianca let out a loud sob.

"Do you need me to get you anything, ma'am?"

"N-no." Bianca replied, collecting herself. "Thank you for telling me, really."

"If there's anything I can do-"

"No, no." Bianca continued to insist.

"Well, I'm honestly not too surprised about the whole thing." Don admitted, "After all, Jaime grew up without a father."

Bianca looked up, her crying face replaced with anger. _"Excuse me,_ hombre?"

"Oh no, I didn't mean it like-"

"I think you did." Bianca's face was dark, "Get out of my house."

"Mrs. Reyes, I-"

 _"I said get out of my house!"_

Don shot her an annoyed scowl before leaving, the door swinging shut behind him.

 **FRIDAY, MARCH 30TH**

"What are you holding?" Dick asked when Bart entered the car with a box and bottle. He couldn't see them very well in the dark light.

"Condoms and lube."

 _"What?"_ Dick asked, "Shit, Bart, I mean, I'll have sex with pretty much anyone who's willing, but you're with Jaime and-"

Bart laughed, "I'm giving them to you, you dork. I won't be needing them, and I figured they might as well go to someone who'll put 'em to good use."

"Oh." Dick realized, and laughed too, "Thanks, man. But why'd you buy them in the first place?"

"My cousin Wally gave them to me, like a year ago. I figured since Jaime's gone I won't be needing them." Bart explained.

"Your cousin Wally?" Dick asked, "One of my best friends' names is Wally. Sounds like something he'd do." Dick commented.

"Wallace Rudolph West, pale ginger kid with too many freckles?" Bart asked.

"Yep, that's the one." Dick burst into laughter. Bart laughed along with him, so much that Dick had to take a minute to recover before starting up the engine and driving off.

"We should invite him to our weekly hangouts someday." Bart gestured.

"He's in California with his girlfriend." Dick informed.

"Yeah, I know. But like, when he comes back." Bart said.

"Ah." Dick nodded, "Well, Bart, can you leave the lube and condoms in here? Steph would never believe me if I said I wasn't banging you this time."

"This happened before?" Bart asked with a mix of confusion and amusement.

"Unfortunately." Dick continued to chuckle.

"Why's that?" Bart asked, genuinely curious.

"Back when I was a senior in high school-"

"I think I heard enough." Bart interrupted. Dick let out one of the loudest laughs he ever heard.

"You'll hear the story, eventually, when we both have a bit more alcohol in our system." Dick promised.

They finally pulled up into the driveway, making their way inside. Steph was waiting for them, along with another woman. "Hello, boys! This is my girlfriend, Koriand'r. But just call her Kori."

"I could've introduced myself." Kori rolled her eyes, then looked at Bart. "You're the Bart, kid, right?"

"Right." Bart nodded, and the first thing he noticed was the color of Kori's hair. A bright pink dye job. But it looked super cool and suited her well.

"So, what was your first session of therapy like?" Dick asked as he poured Bart a shot.

Bart's face paled. He then took the shot.

"Well, the therapy session in itself wasn't that bad. My therapist was Roy's step-mom."

"Seriously?" Dick asked.

Bart nodded. "Anyways, I revealed to her that I was having sex with Jaime while I was away. She convinced me to ask my parents if I could get tested for any diseases."

"Go on." Steph urged.

"Well, I went to my parents the next morning that I wanted to get tested. Thing was, I accidentally revealed it was Jaime. They flipped. Dad stormed off to the police station to 'take care' of him. I don't know what happened to him. And I get tested in two days."

"Let me give you a hug, little man." Stephanie said as Bart finished explaining the story of what happened two days earlier. He easily accepted her embrace, and Dick took a hit of a cigarette he pulled out.

"Jaime's fucked." he muttered.

Bart looked down.

"Dick, _shut up."_ Kori hissed.

"Doesn't make it any less of the truth. Jaime's fucked." Dick insisted.

"It's all my fault." Bart muttered.

"No, it isn't." Stephanie insisted as she let him go, "You made a mistake."

"Yeah, it's my fault." Bart continued to mutter.

"You know, I'm gonna see if I can visit him. Figure out what the hell is gonna happen." Dick said.

"Please do." Bart replied.

Dick nodded. The rest of the night consisted of a few games, like the board game _Sorry!_ , playing truth or dare, and Never Have I Ever. They then watched _Pineapple Express_ , and took a few more shots.

Bart didn't look forward to having to go home.

 **TUESDAY, APRIL 3RD**

"So," Dinah said, beginning the session, "did you talk to your parents about getting tested?"

Bart bit his lip, holding back a growl.

It wasn't her fault for what happened. He knew that.

"I did. And it went horribly wrong." Bart then proceeded to explain the situation to Dinah, who nodded her head in acknowledgement. "I got tested yesterday. I get my results on the ninth."

"Have you ever considered bringing your dad to a session? I'd like to sit the both of you down and have a discussion, as well as hear his thoughts and opinions." Dinah said.

"Really?" Bart seemed surprised, "You can do that?"

"Of course." Dinah nodded, and then they moved onto other things.

Still, Bart liked this idea. Dinah was pretty calm and since she was a professional, perhaps his dad would actually listen to her.

He could only hope.

 **FRIDAY, APRIL 6TH**

"I just found out something."

Bart's eyes flickered over to Dick, where he was on his laptop leeching off of the neighbors' wifi.

"What's up?" Steph asked.

"Wally's coming back on the nineteenth." Dick announced, and he gave a smile to Bart.

"Seriously?" Bart asked in disbelief. Dick nodded. "Ah, well, then. It's about time!"

"He wants to see you, Bart." Dick said. "Look."

Bart walked over to where Dick was, and read the Skype messages between the two.

 **Yeah I'm looking forward to coming home**

 **I really wanna see my cousin**

 **Oh? ;)**

 **He's just come home not too long ago**

 **He ran away**

 **I was so worried about him I thought he died**

 **Aww**

 **Poor Wallman**

 **Yeah I'll see you a few days after I get home though okay**

 **Kay**

"Does he even know I visit you?" Bart asked.

"Nope." Dick laughed.

"Agh! Let me talk to him!" Bart insisted. Dick continued to laugh, handing the laptop over to Bart.

 **Hey Wally**

 **It's Bart.**

 **You're probably confused as to why I'm here.**

 **Not funny Dick**

 **I'm not joking.**

 **If you want proof we can have a video call**

 **But I am Bart. And I'm hanging out with Dick rn**

 **Wtf**

 **How**

 **It's a long story**

 **I just wanted to say ive missed you too**

 **Like a lot**

 **You were like the only person in our family who accepted me**

 **Call me**

One video call, a confused Wally and a laughing Dick later, they finally explained everything, and boy was Wally surprised. Seeing his reactions was slightly hilarious.

Okay, scratch that. It was really hilarious.

 **MONDAY, APRIL 9TH**

Tye was so bored he was braiding his hair.

"So," Jaime began, giving Tye an awkward glance. "at what point in your head did you think, 'Oh, blowing up my mom's boyfriend's car would be a good idea'? No offense, but-"

Tye sighed, and almost laughed. "I never thought it was a good idea." he stopped braiding his hair, and there was silence. He started talking and braiding again. "It was blind hate and anger that drove me to do it, really."

"Oh?" Jaime raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah." Tye nodded, "Guy was an asshole. To both me and my mom. He'd upset me so much that sometimes I left for days upon end in my truck. Would sleep in there."

"Oh." Jaime repeated.

"So when'd you think running away to a farm with your fellow drug dealer friends and the officer's son was a good idea?" Tye finally let himself smile. Jaime felt the need to laugh this time.

"Honestly hombre? I don't know." Jaime admitted.

"Ah, well, I guess we're not too different then." Tye figured.

 _Don Allen is approaching. Kill him._

Both Jaime and Tye turned their heads to the sound of footsteps approaching their cell. Don Allen stood in front of it, and Jaime could feel himself shudder.

"Jaime. Come here."

Jaime got off of his bed and slowly walked up to him. The man was patiently waiting on the the other side.

Don let out a low whisper. "I'm leaving to drive my wife and Bart to the clinic. We're going to get the results for his STD testing. And I swear to god, Reyes, if anything comes up positive- I don't care _what_ it is- you're going to feel my wrath."

Jaime couldn't respond. He didn't know how.

"Consider yourself lucky that you got a warning." Don gave him one last glare before turning around and walking away.

x

"He's clean."

You were supposed to feel relieved when you found out you had a potentially deadly virus raging through your body.

Bart didn't feel relieved at all.

He only felt regret.

Really, was it worth it?

 **TUESDAY, APRIL 10TH**

"Nothing. I have nothing." Bart confirmed.

"That's great, Bart." Dinah said.

"I don't know if getting tested was worth it." Bart mumbled, "Jaime's in so much trouble now because of me."

"Bart, it's not your fault."

 _"All_ of it is my fault!" Bart cried, "Had I not run off with them in the first place, _none_ of this would've happened!"

"Bart-"

"You don't get it, Dinah!" Bart stood up, "You _weren't there!_ You didn't experience what _I_ did! You say you understand but you _don't fucking understand!"_

"Bart, please sit-"

"No! I'm not going to sit! Because this is fucking ridiculous!" Bart growled, clenching his fists and making his way out of the room, not caring about what other people thought. He made his way out of the office, going outside and sitting on a bench in a nearby park. He began to cry, pulling up his knees and burying his face in them. He didn't know how long he cried for. All he could think of was how shitty he felt and how he kept apologizing to Jaime over and over in his head.

 _I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry._

He finally managed to stabilize himself, looking at the place around him. Central City. Buzzing with tall buildings and cars, as well as people walking down the streets with their children and dogs.

This wasn't what he wanted.

Too busy. Too populated.

He wanted to be back on the quiet farm, which was quiet and full of natural beauty. Where you could actually see the stars at night, not blocked by light pollution. Where he could be worried about getting thrown off by a horse rather than worry about being jumped.

Bart didn't live in Central City, though. Keystone was about a twenty minute drive away and much smaller. Still, ever since returning, even _Keystone_ felt like it was becoming too stuffy. Too crowded.

He need a breath of fresh air. Of the open, natural farm air that he'd happily call home. He needed to feel Jaime's reassuring grip in his hand as they walked through the trees of the Kent farm, feeling leaves crunch and twigs snap underneath their feet. He needed to feel the soft breeze pushing his hair back as he raced with Jaime through the open field filled with rich, dark green grass. He needed to feel the sweat on his brow as he wiped it away, exhausted from picking up haystacks. Then, after that, he would need to hear Jaime suggest that they go inside to get some water or lemonade in that soft, husky voice of his.

 _That_ was home.

Bart could feel his eyes weld up again.

 _I want to go home._ he thought, _I want to go home, I want to go home, I want to go home. I don't belong here._

But there was nothing he could do.

Sighing, he got up, knowing he should go back to Dinah. He re-entered the building, into the waiting room, and past that without a care.

"Dinah?" he asked, peeking his head into the room. He could feel his cheeks heating up as she finally made eye contact with him.

She gave him a friendly smile, "Come now, Bart. Sit down. It's okay."

Bart nodded, closing the door behind him, sitting back down in his chair.

"Are you going to be alright?" Dinah asked in a soft tone.

"I-I think so." Bart stuttered.

"Okay." Dinah said, "Can you do me a favor, Bart?"

Bart looked up at her. "What is it?"

"We already talked about this, but it's important. Can you bring your father to a session? I'd like to have a talk with him."

Bart nodded for the second time. "Yeah, I will."

"Okay, good." Dinah gave him a smile before continuing their session.

x

Bart went home and almost instantly fell on top of his bed. He looked at his leg, which was still healing and would leave some nasty scars. It had been over a month since getting caught, and it showed with his leg's process. It was good process, of course, but it felt like his leg was still bleeding- still mangled, still broken. It felt like only a few hours had passed since the incident. Or maybe he felt like he was still there at the bottom of his hill, crying over the sudden overwhelming pain of the leg snapping.

He had Dinah to help him, he knew. But it didn't feel like it'd been over a month since he saw Jaime last. And honestly?

He couldn't tell whether or not that was a bad thing.

 **MONDAY, APRIL 16TH**

"I'm glad you actually bothered seeing me." Jaime let out a small laugh once Dick sat down with him.

Dick shrugged, "You're my friend, Jaime. I don't see why not."

"Any idea how Bart is?"

"He sees me every Friday." Dick explained, "He really misses you. And he's going to therapy. He likes his therapist, though. She's Roy's step-mom."

"So he's doing good." Jaime assumed.

"Eh." Dick shrugged again, "He's alright."

"What do you mean?" Jaime asked.

"I mean… like, I'm kinda scared he'll kill himself." Dick said.

 _"What?"_

"No no, not suicide or anything. Like accidentally. A drug overdose or something." Dick explained.

Jaime narrowed his eyes. "What the hell are you giving him?"

"I'm not giving him anything!" Dick exclaimed, "We weren't the only dealers in town, Jaime. There's other people he could by from and he just seems really stressed out lately and I wouldn't be surprised if-"

"Then don't _let_ him!" Jaime insisted.

 _"Calm down."_ Dick demanded, "I won't. He has me, Kori, and Steph."

"Who?"

"Oh yeah. Stephanie is my roommate now. Kori is her girlfriend." Dick explained.

"You have a roommate? That means you have a job, right?" Jaime seemed surprised.

"Yeah." Dick nodded.

"As what?"

Dick rubbed the back of his neck, "I may or may not clean out the bathrooms at McDonald's…"

Jaime laughed in response. Dick couldn't help but laugh along with him.

"Y'know," Dick began, "whoever said that women's bathrooms are cleaner is a fucking liar. So many bloody toilet sea-"

"I think I heard enough, hermano." Jaime chuckled, still trying not to laugh.

"Alright, alright. So, any idea when you're gonna get out?" Dick turned serious. Jaime frowned.

"I don't know, actually." he admitted, "My court date is in June."

"Ah, I see." Dick nodded, then looked at the cheap watch on his wrist. "Would love to stay a little longer, but I have a few murder scenes to clean up. I'll see you later." he stood up to leave.

"Dick, wait." Jaime said.

"Hmm?"

"Tell him I love him, alright?" Jaime requested. Dick let out a sad smile.

"He already knows that, Jaime."


	19. Chapter 19

**WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER:**

 **-homophobia**

* * *

 **FRIDAY, APRIL 20TH**

"You're making me get in your car at one in the morning?" Wally rubbed his head as he walked down the driveway.

"C'mon Wallman, do you want to see Bart or not?" Dick said as he opened his car's door to get in.

"Well yeah, but I can see him in my own time." Wally insisted as he got in.

"But it's four-twenty!" Dick flashed him a grin when he started the engine. Wally frowned at him. "Dude, we're best friends. I've missed you! Lighten up."

Wally let out a small smile before rolling his eyes and looking away. Dick began to drive to his house, and there was some silence before Wally spoke up.

"Wait, I thought you gave all of your weed to your brother."

"I did." Dick confirmed, "Doesn't mean Steph and Kori don't have any."

"And I'm assuming that Don doesn't have any idea about Bart's visits, right?" Wally said.

"Nope. Oh, and by the way, it was pretty nice of you to supply him with condoms and lube." Dick commented. Even in the dark car, he could see Wally's face begin to turn red.

"Wait a second." Wally snapped his head towards Dick, "How do you know I gave him that?"

Seeing this as an opportunity to fuck with Wally, Dick just smiled and shrugged.

"Dude, if you-" Wally stopped himself. "You didn't, did you?"

"I don't know." Dick said, "Did we?"

"You better not be fucking serious. It's not funny." Wally insisted.

"Somebody's getting upset." Dick teased.

"I will beat the shit out of you, Dick. I don't care if we're best friends. That's not cool, man!" Wally yelled.

"Ooh, we got a badass over here." Dick replied. "Overprotective older brother mode activated! Or cousin, in this case."

"Just- no! You- Dick, you don't do that! He's a teenager! And my _cousin!"_ Wally yelled.

"Wally, calm your fucking tits." Dick finally said, "I didn't fuck your cousin. He just gave his stuff to me because he said he wouldn't be using them."

"Oh, you asshole." Wally grumbled, "You scared the shit out me, Dick."

"I'm not the man you need to keep your eye on." Dick grinned.

"What?"

"Don't worry about it." Dick finally pulled up to his driveway, "Go on, go see him."

Wally rolled his eyes one last time before exiting the truck as Dick turned it off. He opened the door, making his way inside, eyes scanning for Bart.

He didn't have time to find Bart, because he was already stumbling backwards by a sudden strong force. Dick had to stop him from falling. Bart was clinging to his relative like a monkey, not saying a word.

"Agh- missed you too, Bart." Wally laughed as he heard Bart blubber too many words all at once.

Bart finally got off of Wally, and allowed Wally to hug him for real. "You been alright, bud?"

Bart let out a small "Yeah." before they finally separated. Kori and Steph walked up to him, shaking his hand in greeting.

The night consisted of playing Dr. Dre's 2001 album and a lot of joints. Bart didn't leave Dick's house that night before taking eye drops and spraying some of Kori's body spray on him.

 **TUESDAY, APRIL 24TH**

Don would walk past him every day.

He'd look into those evil green eyes of his, unable to tear away.

A reminder of Bart.

 _Thinking of Bart Allen brings you emotional pain._

Jaime sighed, "I know."

x

"My cousin Wally just came back from California. I got to see him again."

"Do you like Wally?" Dinah asked in her professional tone.

"Yeah. He's my favorite cousin." Bart said, "He was one of the only few who supported me."

Dinah nodded in acknowledgement, "I take it you're glad to have him back, then?"

"Yeah. Yeah I am."

"Well, okay, Bart. I'm glad to hear it. Can I talk to your father now?" she requested. Bart nodded, getting up from his seat and leaving. After about a minute, Don entered the room, sitting down where Bart was.

"Don Allen?" she let out a friendly smile.

"That's me." Don smiled back.

"Hi, it's nice to meet you." she shook his hand before speaking again. "I'd like to talk about your views on your son's sexuality."

Don's smile formed into a frown. "Oh?"

Dinah nodded. "Look, Don. I understand that you were raised with different values, and that's okay. However, you must come to accept that your son is gay. And not be ashamed of that fact."

"How could I _not_ be ashamed?" Don asked.

"There's simply nothing wrong with homosexuality, Don. Bart's a good kid. He deserves your love and support as a father."

Don huffed.

"The reason I'm saying all of this is because that parental support is crucial to the mental health of every child, _especially_ LGBTQ children."

"No. I'm not going to do that. I will love and support him, but as long as he's still gay? No." Don insisted

"Don." Dinah said, "I'm not saying you have to go to pride parades and flaunt around rainbow flags. Simply accepting Bart, and being okay with his homosexuality is what he wants. And as a parent, it's your responsibility to do such."

"So this is what you've been doing this whole time, huh?" Don accused. "Why should I even be surprised? You've been exposing your leftist agenda to my son for weeks."

"It's not called 'leftist agenda', Don. It's called caring for and accepting your child." Dinah was still calm, despite Don's challenging attitude.

"So what's next? If I accept him for being gay, what if he turns out to be a pedophile, too? What happens if he wants to bring home a seven year old boy and announce him as his boyfriend to me? I'm not just gonna blindly accept him because it's the politically correct thing to do. _Not. Happening."_ Don folded his arms over his chest.

"Homosexuality and pedophilia are not the same thing, Don." Dinah sighed, "Having a sexual relationship with a person who is not sexually mature- that being, a child- can be both physically and psychologically damaging to the child, which is why we as a society condemn it. However, in most homosexual relationships, both parties are mature and consenting." she took in a deep breath before speaking again, "There's plenty of things wrong with Bart, Don. A lot of things he still has to work through and get over. However, his homosexuality is not one of them. Please, I ask you, to stop treating it as such. And to love your son, and to accept him with open arms."

Don snapped, spewing out words upon words, before finally leaving.

x

"You're not seeing Dinah anymore." Don finally told Bart once they arrived home.

"Wait, what? Why?"

"Do you even need to ask?" Dinah looked at him before hanging up his keys. "I have to go to the hardware store now. Be good."

Bart stood still, watching him exit.

 _Fuck._

 **SATURDAY, MAY 12TH**

Barry and Iris' house was buzzing with excitement, as Artemis was finally coming home from California as well. She, her mother, her sister, and her father were all going to arrive within a few minutes. Since Artemis and Wally had recently gotten engaged, the two families decided to celebrate by throwing a dinner party.

Bart liked Artemis, so he didn't really have a problem with this. What he did have a problem with, though, was being forced to clean out the nasty old toilets the previous day.

Seriously? It wasn't even his house!

Whatever. It was done and over with. Bart could hear the knocking at the door, and Barry and Iris excitedly allowed the small family in. They set down their stuff, and Bart went over to greet them.

He saw Jade.

What was she doing here?

* * *

 _"Wait, Artemis?" the name struck Bart as familiar, and he tried to think of where he heard it from before._

 _"What about her?" Jade asked._

 _"Oh. It's nothing. My cousin Wally had a girlfriend named Artemis." Bart explained._

 _"Oh? What was her last name?"_

 _"Crocker, maybe? I'm not sure." Bart admitted._

 _"Crock?"_

 _"Yeah! That's it!"_

 _"Well then, it's a small world we live in, Bart." she smiled, "That's my sister you're speaking of. I'm assuming you've met her?"_

* * *

Of course! Jade was Artemis' sister.

"Bart!" Artemis excitedly said, and he allowed her to hug him. "This is my mom, Paula, my dad, Lawrence, and my sister, Jade."

"R-right." Bart stammered, "Nice to-" he said as he shook her family's hands, "-uh, _meet_ you." he finished he reached Jade's hand. She gave him a wink before shaking it for him and walking off.

The night proceeded normally, they ate, talked, and laughed. Most of the time, though, Bart was just plain bored. It wasn't until the stars were out that Jade walked up to him.

"Bart, come with me." she gave him another wink before walking off. Seeing no reason as to why he shouldn't, he followed her outside to the balcony, where she sat down in a chair. Bart sat with her. Jade looked up into the stars.

"So what's it been like, Bart? Being back here?"

Bart sighed. "I mean, it could be worse, but I've felt awful."

Jade nodded. "I'm going back to the farm in the fall, like usual. However, it won't be the same without Martha and John there."

"Who owns it now?" Bart asked urgently.

"Well," Jade said, "When I was visiting Roy in jail, his step-mother happened to come by at the same time. He requested that we go to the farm together and figure out what's going on. So, we agreed on a day to go, then drove there together."

"Roy's mom is- _was_ my therapist."

"Oh, really?" Jade raised an eyebrow, "Why are you no longer her patient?"

Bart sighed once again. "My dad thought she was inflicting her 'leftist agenda' or whatever on me."

Jade rolled her eyes at the sound of that. "Anyways, Dinah and I arrived at the farm and we found out that Clark, their grandson, owns it now. Along with his wife, Lois, his cousin, Kara, and their dog, Krypto, of course. Conner is still living there along with Wolf, too."

"How's Porky?"

"Porky?"

"Oh, he's a pig I cared for while I still lived there." Bart explained.

Jade sighed. "I don't know. A good portion of their animals were sold off for butchery. I don't even think they have any pigs anymore."

Bart looked down.

"I'm sorry, Bart." she apologized.

"No. It's not your fault." Bart said.

Jade looked up at the stars once again, "Roy is back at the farm now that he's out. He really doesn't have anywhere else to go."

"He wants to leave?" Bart asked.

Jade shook her head. "I don't think so."

"Has he seen Dick at all?"

"I don't think so." Jade repeated, her dark eyes making their way over to Bart's green ones. "How has life been ever since you lost him?"

"What?"

 _"Bart."_ Jade said with a small edge to her voice, not bothering to answer his question.

"Who told you?" Bart replied.

"Nobody. I just kind of figured. I have this weird... sense, I suppose. Like, when two people are connected, I can feel it. And you and Jaime are a fine example."

"Really? Are you a psychic?" Bart asked.

"No." Jade shook her head, "It would be rather interesting if I was, though."

"Sure would." Bart agreed, "And... I miss him. Like, _really_ miss him. I don't know how long he's gonna be in jail for. He still has his court date. I got all of this information from Dick, by the way."

"I see." Jade nodded.

There was a few moments of silence before Jade spoke up once again.

"Bart," she said, gently grabbing his hand, causing Bart to flinch. It wasn't like a bad touch or anything, but rather a touch of trust and companionship. "Come back."

"I- I can't." Bart mumbled, "I'm trapped here."

"When you're old enough, come back. Return to the farm." Jade insisted.

"I can do that?" Bart asked, a gleam of hope in his eyes.

"Yes. You can. When you're an adult." Jade said, removing her hand, "That's what you want, no?"

"I _do_ want to go back." Bart said, then looked away. "Just... not _alone,_ y'know?"

"I know Jaime won't be there." Jade said, a sad smile on her face, "But you'll have me. You'll have Roy, Conner, and Kara, as well as Clark and Lois. They're very friendly."

"Okay." Bart nodded, "Okay. I will. Day after graduation, I promise."

"When's that?" Jade asked.

"A few years from now."

Jade nodded. "It's settled, then. We'll discuss this in details later." she smiled, "Until then, I look forward to seeing you again, Bart Allen."

 **MONDAY, JUNE 4TH**

Jaime's heart sunk in his chest.

 _Kill them all. Kill every single one in this room._

"No." he mumbled, "Even then, it would only make things worse."

He thought about how Bart would react. Imagining the expression on his boyfriend's face only made Jaime's own eyes water.

He couldn't cry. Not now. Even after what he had found out what he was destined for. He sighed, whispering to himself.

 _"I'm sorry, Bart."_

 **FRIDAY, JUNE 8TH**

"Bart, sit down." Dick commanded in a light tone.

Bart didn't ask why. He had learned in the past month or so that these days, when Dick wanted him to do something, he usually had good reason along with it. After all, he was sobering up with less money to spend on alcohol and weed.

"Jaime had his court date. I found out how long he's going to jail for." Dick said.

"Oh?" Bart asked urgently.

Dick sighed, looking at Bart with pained blue eyes.

"Eight years."

Bart could feel his heart shatter in his chest. It took him a few moments to respond. "Eight fucking _years?!"_ he yelled, _"What the fuck?!_ That doesn't even make any _fucking sense!_ Oh my god! _No!"_

In eight years, how old would be be? Twenty-three? Twenty-four? Something like that- an _adult!_ Almost in his mid-twenties!

He began to sob, not able to contain himself. There was absolutely _no way_ he could wait eight years.

Dick held him close, and Bart cried into him. A few tears rolled down Dick's cheeks as well. "W-we have to do something." Bart mumbled.

"There's nothing we can do." Dick replied in a soft tone. "The court's already made their decision."

"It-it's already been three months. I can't do eight years, Dick. _I can't!"_ Bart cried.

"Shh, Bart." Dick ran a hand through his friend's hair, "It's alright. Cry it out."

Bart did just that. He cried until he ran out of tears while Dick tried his best to comfort him.

"Bart." Dick finally spoke up after Bart had calmed down. "He wanted me to tell you something else, too."

"What? What is it?" Bart looked up at him with tear-stained eyes.

"He said that he'll always love you, but he wants you to move on. He wants you to find somebody else." Dick explained.

"I don't _want_ anyone else!" Bart shouted, "I want _Jaime!"_

Bart thought he was out of tears, but he could feel them begin to weld up again.

"I'm sorry, Bart." was all Dick could say, letting out the words in a choking sob.

Bart knew that, too. He couldn't do anything. Dick couldn't do anything.

All they could do was travel along the somber avenue that was paved for them, and then hope for the best at the road.

 **MONDAY, AUGUST 13TH**

Bart's summer had consisted of visiting Dick, seeing his new therapist, and completing Algebra I and History I.

He had found out when Cassie and Tim were to get out of jail- by May. After hearing about Jaime's eight years, knowing that it was only around nine months until he saw Tim and Cassie again was a relief.

The reason Jaime had gotten such a long sentence was due to the combination of selling weed, statutory rape, and damaging a police vehicle, Bart later found out.

He didn't care about the reasons why, though. All he cared about was getting to see Jaime again. He hadn't gotten over the fact that Jaime was destined to eight years in jail- or, rather, seven years and ten months, he liked to think.

He tried his best to forget Jaime.

Nothing ever worked.

Bart entered the foreign building, and everyone stopped what they were doing to look at him. Nobody's seen him since last September, and most people looked at him as if he died. He knew that wasn't true; his story had gone all throughout the town's papers.

Oh, yes. Everyone knew.

 _Everyone_ knew.

He looked down at his paper.

Locker 1595.

He tried to ignore the stares of his classmates as he made his way through the hallways, finally finding his locker, and trying out the combination a few times. He still had a good fifteen minutes before he had to get to his first period class. He heard a few snickers by him, but he ignored them. He didn't turn around until he heard footsteps approaching him. Spinning around quickly, he found himself face to face with Garfield.

"Hey, Bart. What's up?" he asked in a calm demeanor, trying to ignore the awkwardness of the situation. He hadn't seen Bart in nearly a year, and the time gap made it hard to make things normal again.

Bart knew he should've responded with something appropriate like, _"A lot of things, pretty busy actually. What about you?"_ but instead, he blurted out, "Did the party ever happen?"

Gar took a few moments to register the question, and Bart could see his face change expression from feeling awkward to a bit bothered. "No." he said as he rubbed the back of his neck. "I got the lecture of a lifetime when Megan found out that I was going to throw it. Never again." he chuckled nervously.

"Who snitched?"

Gar was surprised by Bart's lack of enthusiastic reply. His question was straightforward, emotionless. Nothing like the Bart Allen he knew.

"Miguel. Why?" Gar asked.

Bart didn't respond. He closed his locker.

 _Of course_ it was Miguel! That fucking golden child could do no wrong. Bart couldn't believe he actually used to enjoy his presence. Miguel was a quiet kid, who cracked the occasional joke. He was polite, and always took care of himself. He always had whatever anybody needed on him, like that one time in eighth grade when Bart wanted to buy a Red Bull from 7-11 but forgot his money. He was with Gar, Virgil, Richie, and Miguel. Miguel gave him the money for the purchase, and Bart promised to pay him back- and he'd forget to every time. Miguel never paid any mind though, he just kept that same small grin on his face.

Yeah yeah, Bart never paid him back, but it didn't equal out. No amount of money could pay for what he had done.

His snitching ruined Bart's life.

"Are you a freshman or a sophomore?" Gar asked as a pale girl with dark hair and equally dark clothes to match approached him, and wrapped an arm around his waist.

It was a valid question, but it still annoyed Bart.

"A freshman, again. Since… you know. And who's this?"

"I'm Raven, Garfield's girlfriend." the dark haired girl responded in an almost bland tone.

"Oh?" Bart raised an eyebrow curiously.

"Yeah, we've been dating for about seven months now." Gar explained, and then pulled out his phone. "Well, it was nice talking to you, Bart, but I gotta get to class before the bell rings."

Bart nodded, "Bye." he said to the couple as they walked away. He looked at his own phone that he had just gotten back a few days ago. 7:45 a.m. They still had fifteen minutes before school started. He couldn't blame Gar, however, because if Bart were him, he'd want to exit the awkward situation as soon as possible, too.

He scanned the hallways, eyes eventually landing on somebody he now hated oh-so much.

Growling and clenching his fists, he made his way over to Miguel, who was trying out his locker combination as well. He then stopped when he realized that Bart was approaching him.

"Oh, hey, Bart. Been awhile since I've seen you." he said as he faced him, that same grin he always held on his face showing.

Bart didn't respond.

 _Remain calm. Remain calm. Remain calm._

He wouldn't listen to that voice.

Letting out a howl of rage, he grabbed Miguel's shirt by the collar and slammed him into one of the lockers, then held him there. Miguel struggled to escape his grasp, but Bart's grip was firm and he was going nowhere.

 _"You ruined my fucking life!"_ Bart cried out, trying to hold back the tears that were forming in his eyes.

"Bart! What the fuck are you doing, man?! _Let me go!"_ Miguel demanded, but Bart didn't listen. He slammed Miguel against the locker again, making the boy let out a cry of pain. He continued to struggle to escape.

 _"Why'd you tell them?!"_ Bart screamed, _"Why?!"_

"Bart, _stop!"_ Miguel cried.

Bart pulled Miguel close to him and landed a punch in his face, then let go of his shirt and Miguel fell to the floor, holding his now bleeding nose.

Bart knew he probably went far enough, that Miguel learned his lesson. But the anger and rage that pumped through his veins were too much. He kicked Miguel in the stomach, and he grabbed it in pain, trying to protect it. Bart continued until he felt the strong hold of the school police officer take him away from Miguel.

He didn't bother to try and escape the grasp. He allowed himself to be hauled off to the Deans' office, and the officer forcibly commanded him to sit down in a chair. Bart obeyed, resting his head against his elbow on the armrest as he awaited whatever punishment may come for beating up Miguel.

A phone call was made to his parents before he was sat down in front of a dean. He was a middle aged man with dark skin and a bald head. Most importantly, he was very, very, tired- a _"I'm not in the mood for dealing with this. Where is my coffee?"_ look was plastered upon his face.

"Bart Allen." he said simply, folding his hands on his desk.

"That's me." Bart replied in a cold tone, looking down at the floor.

"Why?"

Bart liked this question, because it was simple.

"Last year, Miguel Barragan ruined my life." he responded just as simply.

"How?"

Bart could come to like this dean.

"My friend was going to throw a party, and wanted me to buy marijuana from this group of people. Miguel told the cops, and they caught me mid-purchase. I was scared and confused so I ran off with the drug dealers. We then ran away from town. I'm pretty sure you've heard this before." Bart explained.

"I've heard the story, yes, but please continue."

Bart rolled his eyes, "Well, we lived in this place for several months, and everything was fine. Then we were caught, and I came back. Nothing was ever the same again. And everything's shit now- _er,_ sorry. I'm just upset. Anyways, it's all Miguel's fault. If he hadn't snitched, none of this would've happened."

"I see." was the response.

"So what now? What's my punishment, Mr…" Bart trailed off.

"Jones."

"Mr. Jones?" Bart finished.

"Ten days suspension, which is two school weeks."

"Oh. Cool." Bart replied, emotionless.

Mr. Jones flashed him a perplexed look.

Bart didn't respond.

"Your mother will be coming to pick you up. I'll be having a chat with her as well."

Bart nodded, "Okay. Do you have anything else to say?"

"I did, and I _would_ lecture you, but it already seemed like you were well aware of your punishment and you knew what you did was wrong. I am not going to waste my breath."

Bart couldn't help but like this simple dean.

 **FRIDAY, AUGUST 17TH**

Bart was home alone, as both of his parents were at work.

A knocking was heard at the door.

He walked towards it, curious as to who it was and what they wanted. He pulled out his phone, checking the time; around 3:30.

He opened the door, seeing somebody who he didn't expect.

Miguel Jose Barragan.

"What do you want?" he hissed.

Miguel looked down sheepishly, "To talk."

"Why?" Bart grumbled, ready to close the door in his face.

"Aren't you curious as to why I told your dad about you buying weed?" Miguel asked, then looking Bart in the eyes.

"I already know the answer, because you're a fucking goody-two shoes who could do no bad." Bart snapped, and was about to slam the door, but to his surprise, Miguel caught it.

"No." he said simply.

Bart's eyes flickered with curiosity, and Miguel noticed it. A grin landed on his face, but not his usual kind grin. It was almost a smirk.

"Mind if I come in?" he asked, taking advantage of Bart's curious state.

But, Bart wouldn't give in that easily. "Yes, I do, actually." he responded coldly.

"We'll talk on the porch, then." Miguel retorted.

Bart sighed. "Fine." Miguel moved out of his way as he made his way outside, closing the door behind him.

Miguel sat down on one of the chairs, and Bart sat on the other. He could see the smirk leave Miguel's face, and his eyes were drawn to the ground.

"You wanna know the truth?" he asked.

"Obviously." Bart grunted.

"Well," Miguel sighed, "Do you remember that night, it was one of the last few weeks before freshman year? We were at Richie's house, with Virgil, Gar, Steph, and Courtney?"

"Oh yeah, and we all got drunk." Bart almost laughed.

"Yeah, well, then we played spin the bottle? Remember?" Miguel said.

"We did?" Bart asked, surprised.

"You were pretty drunk." Miguel nodded, and laughed a little, "Anyways, during some point during the game, you practically ate Virgil's face."

 _"I did?"_ Bart asked, his face turning red.

"You _did."_ Miguel confirmed and continued to nod, "And after the game, you pulled me aside, you wanted to talk to me."

"What did I say?" Bart asked, scared of what Miguel would tell him next.

"You said the reason you kissed Virgil super hard was because you were gay and secretly had a crush on him, and hoped to 'get with him' since he had just broken up with Daisy."

"I-" Bart stopped himself. He had totally forgotten about his dumb crush on Virgil. "Yeah, I did." he admitted, looking down. "I did like him a lot." He bit his lip, and suddenly he felt a pain in his heart. He loved Jaime more than anyone in the world, but a part of him wished he had never met Jaime, stayed in Keystone, and fallen in love with Virgil instead. Virgil was pan, so it wasn't impossible to date him, either.

A quick fantasy rolled through his head. Virgil, not Jaime. Virgil, in which he could get away with sleeping over at his house or Virgil sleeping over at his house because their parents could think they were "just friends". Virgil, in which he could go to the center that his father owned and play basketball with him and their group of friends then sneak a few kisses behind the bleachers. Virgil, in which they'd go to a horror movie and he'd try to prove to Bart that he was tough, only to end up clinging and screaming to him in the end. Virgil, in which, when the time came, he could make Bart's family come around. Don liked Virgil, and he got along well with Virgil's dad, Robert. Had he fallen in love with Virgil, perhaps he could have gotten a happy ending.

But, he didn't love Virgil.

No, he had Jaime. Jaime, in which they were hiding from the law and pretending they were "just friends" at the farm because they were scared of how the Kents would react. Jaime, in which he had no center to go to, but instead, Dick's rotten old house that reeked of weed. Jaime, in which where they couldn't even go to a movie because his family couldn't afford another car. Jaime, in which, when the time came, would not make- _did not make_ Bart's family come around. Don hated Jaime, and he had stigma with his mother, Bianca. Hadn't he fallen in love with Jaime, perhaps he could have gotten a happy ending.

Still, he loved Jaime.

"Well," Miguel continued, pulling Bart out of his thoughts, "I, uh-" he cleared his throat, _"got jealous."_

"Huh?" Bart snapped his head to look at Miguel, in which it was his turn to be red.

"Yep…" Miguel trailed off, then narrowed his eyes, "I was jealous, okay? I had a stupid crush on you."

"Miguel… I'm sorry… I never knew…" Bart trailed off as well, and they sat in silence for a few moments.

"I was almost completely sure, that when Gar threw the party that night, you'd end up drunkenly hooking up with Virgil, and the thought of it made me scared and upset." Miguel admitted, "I wanted you, Bart. _I really did._ And I figured if I couldn't have you, then _nobody_ could. So I told."

Bart didn't respond. He simply looked at Miguel, a pained expression on his face.

"I know I shouldn't have. Please don't get pissed off again." Miguel begged, "If you never want to talk to me or look at me again, I understand. Just wanted to let you know that I'm sorry, man."

A quick thought zipped through Bart's head. Maybe he should just accept Miguel's apology right here, and then hook up with him. He wasn't getting any action since Jaime wasn't around, and Miguel wanted it. His parents weren't home. They could do something really fast. Right here, right now. There didn't have to be anything romantic or affectionate about it, just sex. Plain and simple. Yeah, that sounded nice. Nobody had to know.

"Hey, uh, Miguel?" Bart sheepishly asked.

"Yeah?" Miguel was the curious one now.

"Hey man, I mean I'm the only one home, and uh, I mean, if you wanna-" _No!_ What was he _thinking?!_ He couldn't betray Jaime, even if he was sitting in jail. It wasn't right. Having sex with Miguel would be cheating. Bart shook his head quickly.

"Yeah?" Miguel raised an eyebrow.

"Never mind that." Bart let out a small smile and chuckled nervously, and they sat in silence for a few minutes.

"Well, I should get going." Miguel finally stood up, brushing his pants off, he began to walk away before stopping himself.

"Oh, and Bart?" he asked, turning around. Bart met his glance.

"It's not too late to ask for a fresh start, is it?"

Bart thought about it for a second. "No." he shook his head in unison with the word, "It's not too late."

"Can we start fresh now?" Miguel requested.

Bart nodded, and held out his hand in an offer to shake.

"Alright, thanks man. I'll see you at school." he flashed Bart a smile, shaking his hand lightly. He then turned around and walked off the porch, getting into his car, pulling out of Bart's driveway and into the streets.

Bart watched as he left.

He lightly slammed his head on the brick wall, letting out a sigh.

He and Miguel had a fresh start.

Bart wished he could have said the same for his parents.


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: I've personally decided to release the last two bits of this story somewhat early.**

 **There will be a prequel to this story, "Along Somber Avenue", taking place in Tim's P.O.V. It will be released... whenever.**

 **WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER:**

 **-homophobia**

* * *

 **MONDAY, AUGUST 27TH**

First day back.

It was kind of awkward at first, but Bart knew he'd eventually adjust to it. He saw some faces he knew from previous years in his classes, but otherwise, nobody. He knew there was a very slim chance he'd make friends again.

When he got on the bus to leave, he got in whatever seat he could, and watched it fill up with kids from his neighborhood.

"Mind if I sit here?"

He didn't bother looking at the owner of the voice.

"Yeah, sure, go ahead."

He felt a weight beside him as the person sat down in the seat as well.

"Wait a second. Bart, is that you?"

Bart's head turned to face Virgil Hawkins. He could feel himself filling with either excitement or dread. It was hard to tell which.

"Virg! Haven't seen you in forever, bro! How's life?"

"Been doing good. I'm so happy I'm finally a senior now. I'll be at the University of South Dakota by next fall."

Virgil was a _senior_ now?

Oh, right. He was a junior last fall. Bart was a freshman. Virgil had been two years older and two grades ahead of him. But Bart had to repeat freshman year. And now he was three years behind.

"Oh, really? What inspired you to go further out west and further up north?" Bart smiled.

"Dunno. Something about the place has always spoken to me. Hoping to become an electrician." Virgil informed.

"Sheesh, you must be super smart to want to be an electrician. All that math and equations... or whatever…" Bart shuddered at the thought. A summer of algebra had been enough for his brain.

"Doing calculus this year." Virgil continued.

"You're insane." Bart teased.

Virgil chuckled. "What about you?"

"Repeating most of freshman year." Bart frowned. "At this rate, I'll be able to graduate… by December of 2021."

"Hey, that's not that bad. You'll get out five months before everyone else, at least." Virgil shrugged.

"Guess that's true." Bart nodded. "Anything else new, besides school?"

"Well, both Richie and I managed to land a job at Pizza Hut. Oh yeah, and Sharon's finally out of the house. It's so quiet without her around."

"I would imagine." Bart laughed. He'd been to Virgil's house quite a few times before, and Sharon was always a very talkative young woman. He couldn't really say much, though. He really wasn't too different than her. Then it struck him. "You said you're good at math, right?"

"Yeah."

"It wouldn't be impossible for you to tutor me, then, right? I mean, I suck at it and you don't have to do it for free-"

"Dude, stop. I'm not gonna charge you anything. You're my friend! And it'll be nice to get to know you again, after, uh, all this time." Virgil smiled. Bart smiled back. "If you need any help," Virgil continued, "I'm usually at my Pops' center after school. Don't be afraid to come in."

"Oh, wow, uh, thanks Virgil." Bart said. They then continued to talk about other things. Virgil also mentioned that a lot of Bart's old friends came to the center as well, which was a huge relief to him. Bart really looked forward to bonding with his old friends all over again.

He got off the bus that day with a large grin on his face.

 **FRIDAY, AUGUST 31ST**

Bart walked into the center, eyes scanning for Virgil. He finally found him, busy placing basketball with a little kid. He waited until the game was over to approach him.

"Hey!" he called out, waving his homework and textbook in the air. Virgil smiled, using a rag to wipe the sweat off his brow, and he readjusted his jersey.

"Came at just the right time, bro." he smiled, "C'mon, let's go to my dad's office."

Bart nodded, and they did just that. Mr. Hawkins was in there, going through some folders.

"Bart Allen?" he asked, a friendly smile on his face.

"What's up, Pops? It's been forever since I've seen you! Virgil wants to help me with my homework." Bart said cheerily. Mr. Hawkins readjusted his glasses before giving Bart a nod.

"Well then. Don't mind me." he insisted, "I'll try to be as quiet as I can." Virgil sat him down, and looked at what Bart had.

"Oh, geometry? Stuff's easy. Here, look."

x

Holy fuck, Virgil was smart.

Bart went home that night with a brain full of knowledge and another grin on his face.

"Where the hell have you been?" Don demanded as soon as he walked through the door, the officer scanning him for any signs of wrongdoing. Red eyes, hickeys, smelly breath- but there was nothing except the homework in his hands.

"I was over at the center. Virgil Hawkins was helping me do my math homework." Bart put his stuff down and began to make his way upstairs. Don only stared for a few moments before picking up the assignments Bart left behind.

All of it was completed. And it seemed legit.

Still, he couldn't trust Bart entirely. A phone call to Robert Hawkins was enough to prove that Bart was telling the truth.

Surely, Don and Bart hadn't been on the best of terms recently, but he couldn't help but feel at least some pride for his son.

 **SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 1ST**

Ever since the school year had started, Bart has had less time to see Dick. However, with Wally back, he's been able to hang out with him during the daytime now, and not have to sneak out every weekend. Dick was almost completely sober all the time now, and not by choice. It was due to a major lack in money. But besides that, something about him had changed. He almost felt like an older brother to Bart. Or a leader of some kind. Somebody he could trust, at least.

It was fair to say Bart loved Dick. Not in the way he loved Jaime, of course. But in a similar fashion to Wally.

"He's tutoring you for free?" Dick asked once the subject of Virgil came up.

"Yeah."

Dick gave him a smirk. "He sounds nice."

"He is." Bart confirmed.

Dick continued to smirk, "Y'know, if he's not straight, you should ask him out."

Bart frowned. "I'm still not over-" _Jaime._ "-him."

Dick frowned as well. "Bart…"

"Doesn't even matter." Wally said, breaking into their conversation. "Nobody's gonna go out with you without my approval first." he teased.

"You're not my mom!" Bart exclaimed.

"But I'll act like her! Bart, go clean out your room!" Wally demanded. Bart laughed, Wally laughed, and Dick laughed.

Still, besides his laughing, Bart couldn't help but feel hurt. Nobody hurt his feelings, but thinking of Jaime hurt. It gave him a sinking feeling in his chest. It had been six months, but it still felt like it hurt just as much. Like his leg was still an open wound, even though it was quite healed by now.

Every time since being caught and brought back, there was a hole inside him.

One that would possibly never heal.

 **WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 12TH**

"Happy birthday, my man." Virgil said as Bart walked into the center.

"Thanks Virg!" Bart said as they walked into the office. "What's this?" he asked as he saw a paper full of math problems on the table.

"It's your birthday gift. You're gonna have to find out what it is by solving those math problems. Each solution has a letter next to it. You gotta decode the thing, basically." Virgil explained.

"Wait. Are you serious?" Bart asked.

Virgil gave him a nod. "We have to see how far you've come."

Bart laughed and rolled his eyes. "Alright, Mr. Hawkins. How much is this extra credit worth again?"

Virgil gave him a laugh before lightly slapping him on the back and waiting for Bart to figure out the problems. After a few minutes, he finally did.

 _PIZZA IN FRIDGE_ was decoded. "Oh?" Bart asked, looking up at Virgil. Virgil gave him a simple nod. Bart went over to the fridge in the room, and opened it up. In there was a small personal pizza along with a couple of candles on top of it. Bart brought the pizza over to the table, and Virgil brought him a lighter, lighting up the candles.

Virgil sang him happy birthday, which kind of embarrassed Bart, but whatever. He blew out his candles.

"So, what'd you wish for?"

"To pass my test next week. Doy." Bart said once he started picking out the candles.

"Don't think you need a wish to do that." Virgil winked. "You're sixteen now, right?"

"Yup."

"Thought so. Want me to heat that up for you?" Virgil gestured to the pizza.

"That'd be nice." Bart nodded. Virgil took the pizza and heated it up in the microwave for about a minute before they started their work. A bit of writing and a lot greasy fingerprints later, the assignment was finished.

 **SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 15TH**

Bart's life was slowly getting better. He was getting all of his old friends back, and he was passing math class with flying colors. But there was still one thing Dick persisted on.

"Dude! Ask him out!"

"No!"

"He gave you a free pizza!"

Bart sighed, "Alright. Fine."

It'd been over a year since the event of leaving town happened.

He needed to get over Jaime now.

He knew that.

Still, he couldn't help but have a sinking feeling in his chest.

 **MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 17TH**

"Hey, uh, Virgil?" Bart asked on the bus trip home that afternoon.

"Hmm?"

"I was thinking that maybe we could, y'know, instead of homework this Friday, we could like, go see a movie instead?" Bart offered.

"Sure. Want me to ask the other guys if they want to go?" Virgil asked.

"Uh- er, no. Just us." Bart smiled.

"Sure. Cool." Virgil agreed.

 **FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 21ST**

"Have fun on your date!" their friend Daisy called out as Virgil and Bart boarded their bus.

"Date?" Virgil asked. Bart let out a nervous laugh as they sat down.

"Well, I wouldn't call it a _date."_

Virgil rolled his eyes. "Who cares what it's called?"

Bart didn't know why that made his heart beat faster.

x

Bart could feel Virgil's hand softly grip his.

A blush formed on his face, and he was glad nobody could see it in the dark space.

 _Be brave, Allen. Be brave._

Bart returned the grip, only thinking about how much Dick was going to freak out when he heard about this.

 **SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 22ND**

"I was so right!" Dick exclaimed.

"You were what?" Wally asked.

"You were, Dick." Bart acknowledged.

"Uh oh, Wallman. Bart's got a boyfriend." he sing-songed. Wally rolled his eyes.

"He's not my boyfriend." Bart mumbled. Wally let out a light laugh.

"Bart," he said, "we all know he likes you. Nothing wrong with that."

"I'm not sure if I'm ready." Bart admitted. He thought he had gotten over Jaime plenty of times, but every time he imagined himself having a boyfriend, it wasn't focused on Virgil. It was focused on Jaime, the boy he lost six months ago.

A memory flew through his head.

* * *

"I don't _want_ anyone else!"

"I want _Jaime!"_

* * *

"Go at your own pace, Bart. You'll be fine any way that goes." Wally insisted.

Bart almost laughed at that. He used to be such a track star, just like Wally was, too. Yet time seemed to be going so fast. He couldn't keep up. It didn't matter how quickly he ran or how many medals and trophies he won.

Time was supposed to be going fast. Because the faster time went, the quicker he'd be able to see Jaime, Tim, and Cassie. The faster it went, the faster he'd be back at the farm.

But he didn't want it to go fast. It felt like water slipping in between his fingers. He couldn't contain it in his palms.

 _It was almost as if he was still at the bottom of the hill with his mangled, bloody-_

He shook his head. He couldn't keep thinking about it. Yet every time his eyes landed on the scars on his leg, he thought about Jaime again. The one who sacrificed himself for Bart's well-being.

The one he still was stupidly and hopelessly in love with.

His brain was telling him to get over Jaime, but his heart was having trouble keeping up. It was still injured, still healing from the hole in it.

Maybe he should focus on Virgil more. Maybe then he'll think less about Jaime.

Virgil was a good guy. Virgil was smart. Virgil was handsome, quirky, and his family liked Virgil.

Not Jaime. _Virgil._ He told himself.

"He'll be fine, regardless." Dick insisted.

"Yeah, I will." Bart agreed.

Right?

 **FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 28TH**

"Uh, Bart?" Virgil asked once he was about to leave.

"Hmm?" Bart asked.

"Do you, uh, plan on going to homecoming at all? I mean, it's here at the center and my last one and all and everyone else is going and I can get you in for free-"

"Are you asking me to go to homecoming with you?" Bart grinned.

"Well, yeah, but-"

"'Course I will. It's a date." he teased.

"R-right."

 **SATURDAY, OCTOBER 13TH**

Bart, Richie, Miguel, Bonnie, Garfield, and Raven were all granted early access to the center. A lot of photos from their parents later, they finally were let go, and other people from the school were let in. The entire center went dark, with only a few party lights lighting it up. The room was practically vibrating with music, and Bart and his friends had a good time raving to the big room music that was played in the beginning. Though, doing such in tuxedos wasn't exactly the most comfortable thing, it was still fun.

They finally decided to catch a break by the punch bar, cooling off in the meantime. Right after they were done with that, a slow song began.

"May I have this dance?" Virgil held out his hand.

"I don't know how to dance." Bart replied.

"I can show you." Virgil insisted.

"Alright." Bart said, figuring he had nothing to lose.

Boy, was it awkward. He kept accidentally stepping on Virgil's feet and bumping into him, and not to mention he was covered in sweat as well.

But it was fun. And that was all that mattered.

x

He didn't remember what happened the rest of that night. He only remembered when it ended. The center was empty and its blaring bright lights were back on, but only for a few more hours.

Bart wasn't underneath those bright lights, however. He was under the small set of bleachers set out for those who needed to sit down after they got tired.

With Virgil.

They were talking about how much fun they had and how exhausted they were- oh wait, nope. They were kissing now. Okay.

The last time Bart felt somebody else's lips on his own was seven months ago, when Jaime was saying goodbye to him.

 _Blue._

Bart was so helplessly in love with Jaime.

He was thinking about Jaime when kissing Virgil. He quickly separated them, and Virgil looked surprised.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"I thought I heard someone." Bart lied. Because it would be too much for him and too confusing for Virgil if he told the truth.

Virgil looked around for a few moments. When nobody came, he began to lean in again.

"Ooh, would you look at the time." Bart said, pulling out the phone that he had just gotten back a few months prior. "Ten-thirty. My mom should be here any minute. Fun while it lasted, Virgil." he made his way out from under the bleachers, knowing Virgil was staring at him with a confused look.

Due to fortunate timing, Meloni sent him the "I'm here" text only a few moments after. Bart said goodbye to his friends before getting in his mother's car.

"Had fun?" she asked and smiled.

"Yeah." Bart nodded.

 _I think, at least._ He thought.

 **MONDAY, OCTOBER 15TH**

"So," Virgil said on the bus ride home that following Monday afternoon, "are we a thing now?"

 _No._

"I mean… I guess… do you want to?" Bart grinned.

"I do." Virgil smiled. He took his hand and discreetly grabbed Bart's. Even though nobody else could see it, Bart felt himself blushing, and he looked away.

"Y'know," Virgil said, "my birthday isn't too far off my now."

 _Neither is Jaime's. He's going to be nineteen._

"Oh?" Bart asked, looking up at him.

"Yep. The big one-eight. My birthday's on the first, but we're having a party on the second. Wanna come?"

"'Course." Bart grinned. He was Virgil's boyfriend now, right? So he had to come.

"Also, Richie is throwing a Halloween party at his house. I'm going, but I don't think you should come unless you want to be playing COD for five hours straight." Virgil laughed.

Bart couldn't help it.

He laughed, too.

 **FRIDAY, OCTOBER 19TH**

"Do you really want to leave?" Virgil asked once they finished Bart's homework.

"I mean, I guess we can hang out." Bart shrugged.

"Movie?" Virgil suggested to the flat screen TV that was mounted upon the wall of the office. Bart nodded. Virgil scrolled through the movie options before finally deciding upon a recently made comedy that Bart heard of a few times, but never saw himself. He sat on the futon with the other boy, and Bart could feel the tension radiating from him. So much, that he couldn't focus on the movie.

Virgil spoke up, "Do you wanna-" he cut himself off, scooting closer to Bart. Bart's heart was basically thumping out of his chest, and he could feel himself beginning to breathe faster.

"Bart?"

"Y-yeah. I wanna." Bart confirmed. Virgil let out a smile before straddling Bart's lap and planting a light kiss on him that soon grew hot and heavy.

 _Not Jaime. Not Jaime. Not Jaime._ The words echoed through Bart's head.

 _"Virgil."_ he let out a high-pitched whine when Virgil started kissing his neck lightly. Bart shuddered. Virgil planted another kiss to his lips before putting his arms behind Bart's back and began to slowly peel off his shirt.

Bart wanted this. He wanted this _so bad._ But knowing that Jaime was sitting somewhere in jail, heartbroken and lonely, while he was free and about to have sex with another man was almost too much to bear.

Jaime wanted him to move on. He knew that. But it still felt wrong.

Bart laid back on the futon as Virgil took off his own shirt. Fuck, he was sexy.

"Like what you see?"

"You're hot." was all Bart could say.

Virgil continued to kiss Bart, when the office door creaked open.

Robert Hawkins only let out a sigh before placing his face in his hand.

Well, whatever he and Virgil had going on, it was definitely over now.

x

"So this is what's really been going on when you were at Virgil's for 'homework'?!" Don accused once Robert Hawkins left their home.

"No, Dad! We actually did homework- it was just, ugh, I don't know, things just happened and-"

"You promised me!" Don sounded betrayed, "You promised you'd quit whoring yourself out!"

"I didn't do that, Dad! All we did was make out!" Bart yelled.

"Which would've been more if Robert hadn't walked in! Hell, you should be glad I like him! Virgil wouldn't have gotten off easy if Robert wasn't his dad!" Don insisted. He let out a hysterical laugh. "My faggot son just can't keep his fucking mouth off of other boys' cocks! What a fucking joke! That's what this family is now!"

Bart clenched his fists before turning around, walking outside, and slamming the door.

x

"I'm sorry." Dick apologized once Bart explained the situation to him. "It's my fault, really."

"No, no. It's not. I'm the one who decided to go through with it." Bart insisted, then sighed. "It doesn't really matter, anyways. A part of me, as crazy as this will sound, is glad that we got caught. I'd feel too guilty afterwards."

Dick was silent for a few moments. "Because of Jaime?" he finally asked.

Bart grimly nodded.

"Bart, we both love Jaime but… you know what he said." Dick looked at him with his light blue eyes.

"I can't move on, Dick." his voice was hoarse. "I can't."

Dick pulled him into a hug. Steph, who was sitting on the couch, joined in on the hug.

They stood in that embrace for who knows how long.

 **MONDAY, OCTOBER 22ND**

"Look." Virgil said as he sat down next to Bart on the bus that following Monday morning. "I'm really sorry. It was a stupid idea to-"

"Can we talk about something, Virg?" Bart requested. Virgil nodded his head.

"Look, Virgil, you're really smart and really hot and just- ugh, you're perfect. The thing is, I'm still not over somebody. Somebody who isn't perfect, like you. Who I dated like, nine months ago. And for that I'm sorry. But I can't do this."

"Nine months ago?" Virgil raised an eyebrow, "Wasn't that when you were-"

"Gone? Yeah. It was." Bart sighed. "Can we still be friends?"

"Of course, Bart." Virgil said.

Even though Virgil didn't seem too upset, he probably was on the inside. Bart felt guilty. Guilty for 'cheating' on Jaime, now guilty for breaking up with Virgil. Guilty for everything. Everything was his goddamn fault. The world would probably be a better place if he just suddenly ceased to exist. Or didn't exist in the first place.

Not much he could do about it now, though.

Except wait for that special day after his graduation.

 **TUESDAY, JANUARY 1ST**

The year hadn't been too great.

Though, as the clock struck midnight, Bart couldn't help but feel happy. In a few more months, Cassie and Tim would be getting out of jail! _Finally!_

Dick and Bart celebrated by clinking fake champagne glasses together and drinking apple cider.

 **FRIDAY, MAY 24TH**

Bart let out a scream as Tim entered Dick's house, wrapping his arms and legs around his torso like he did with Wally the previous year.

"Tim! Oh my god, Tim! You're back! You're back! You're fucking back!"

"Is what you're going to throw out if you don't get off me, Bart." Tim mumbled.

"Sorry. I'm just so excited! I haven't seen you in a year, dude!"

"I know, man. I missed you." Tim pulled him into a sudden off-guard hug, holding him tight. He held back his tears.

"Missed you all, actually." once he finally finished hugging Bart. Dick scooped his little brother into his arms, and they let out a few laughs before engaging in a hug of their own.

Tim met Kori and Steph.

"So what time do Jaime and Cass get here?" he asked, a bright smile on his face.

Bart could feel the pang in his chest. It had been over a year since it happened.

It still hurt.

It still hurt way, _way_ too much.

He looked over to Dick, expecting him to respond to Tim.

"Well, uh, Cassie should be here by… around five." Dick said, rubbing the back of his neck.

"And Jaime?"

"Y'know… sevenish _years,_ no big deal." Bart mumbled bitterly. Dick elbowed him, causing a small yelp of pain to come from Bart.

"What do you mean _seven years?"_ Tim only stared.

"That's… that's how long his sentence is. Well, _eight_ years when we found out. But since it's been about a year… _yeah."_ Bart said.

Tim stood in shock for a few moments. He then walked up to Bart, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm… I'm sorry." was all he said.

Bart looked down. "He was special to you too, y'know."

"Can we talk about Jaime for a few minutes, Bart? Would that be okay?" Tim asked. Bart nodded.

Tim looked up at Dick. "Can we go to your room, Dick? For some privacy?"

Dick nodded in understanding.

Tim guided his friend into Dick's bedroom, where he quietly closed the door behind him. Bart sat on the bed, and Tim sat on the computer chair. "Back when we were at Jason's house, I talked to Jaime. About your guys' relationship."

"Oh?" Bart asked, looking at him with curiosity.

"It wasn't anything bad but… I just remember being mad at him. Saying that if we got caught, you'd be heartbroken. Potentially never able for it to be fixed." Tim explained.

"Yeah. You were right about that." Bart scoffed.

"But, Bart… I could tell. I could tell from the way he spoke about you. He loved you, very, very much. It was real. Nothing anybody could ever make up. And I'm sure he still feels it and always will."

"And that's the worst part." Bart mumbled. "He wants me to move on. _Everyone_ wants me to move on."

"It _is_ probably best if you do." Tim admitted, "But really, in the end, you can't control your feelings. And if you ever need any support, I'll be here. I'm sure Dick's done a good job of it himself."

"He has." Bart nodded, then smiled, "He's like a brother to me."

"Ah," Tim smiled back, "then that makes two of us, I guess."

x

When Cassie walked through that door, the first thing Tim did was sweep her off her feet like they did in the movies and kiss her.

It was pretty adorable to watch, actually.

But, Bart couldn't help but feel jealous. How come Tim and Cassie got to see each other and he and Jaime didn't? It wasn't fair!

Still, he was glad to have her back. He hugged her, and also broke the news about Jaime to her. She was pretty upset, but the cheeriness of her and Tim's return was enough to override that.

Jaime wanted them to be happy. He wanted them to have a good time. He didn't want them to drown in misery.

And if there was one thing Bart Allen knew he was good at, it was making Jaime Reyes happy.


	21. Epilogue

**EPILOGUE**

Bart Allen spent his years with his friends and trying his best. Occasionally, he'd try dating a new guy, but that never worked out. So he stayed single. Really, what else could he do? He focused on his studies and managed to graduate high school in the time he predicted. December 2021. The day after that, like promised, Jade picked him up from his house and drove him away to the farm.

Bart felt like he did the first time he came here three years ago- in absolute awe. It was just like the way it was left. The large house, the old barn with its paint peeling off, the dirt path, and not to mention the weed-tree.

A streak of nostalgia went through him.

If only he could've experienced this moment with Jaime.

Bart, being nineteen years old now, was supposed to be over Jaime. He was a boy who he fucked around with when he was fifteen. So what was so special about him?

He didn't think about Jaime a lot these days. When he did, however, it still hurt just as much when he first lost him nearly four years ago.

Still, like his leg was broken, bloody and mangled.

The scars were still there. They'd always be there. They of course faded over time, but were never completely gone.

He got along well with the new Kents controlling the farm. They were good people, like Jade had promised.

Bart was finally living his fantasy. He'd wake up every morning to the sun peeking through his blinds, go downstairs to eat breakfast, then get ready for work. He didn't mind the physical labor. It was paid off in the end. He loved looking at the sunset each night after a long day and feeling relaxed. The new Kents weren't half bad at playing the banjo and harmonica. They'd play melodies on the porch during these sunsets, songs they either made up or learned.

Bart would go stargazing with Conner some nights. The guy was actually really into astronomy, and could point out constellations Bart never even heard of. Sometimes, he'd bring out his telescope. On special nights, the farmhouse would have bonfires and roast hot dogs and marshmallows. They'd do it all again, and Bart loved it.

When he had free time, Bart would simply run. He'd feel the grass in between his toes as he ran through the open field, feeling the fresh breeze upon his face. He'd climb the trees and watch the deer sip from the water down in the creek below. He'd ride the horses and feel their strands of hair from their manes tickle his arms.

It was an amazing life, one Bart thought he would never have. He never looked back and hardly ever went to town. Often, he'd lose track of what day it was. What month it was. He didn't care anymore. It didn't matter. The seasons would pass and Bart would continue to live his life to the fullest he could. Sometimes, Tim and Cassie (who were now engaged) would come visit to help out, as well as Dick and his girlfriend Barbara. Steph and Kori weren't too shy to give a hand, either. They'd have the occasional holiday guests, like some of Bart's old high school friends. He was still friends with Virgil, Richie, Bonnie, Gar, Miguel- you name them. High school drama was put aside, as they were all adults now, enjoying each other's company.

A hot day in June was never fun for working, but it was very relieving to get back into the house afterwards. Sunset was quickly approaching, and Bart and Kara had just finished making dinner. The household had their nightly conversation at dinner before going outside to play the instruments. Bart went to fetch the banjo from the coat closet- he was never really good at it, but he still loved playing it.

However, it wasn't there.

"Kara!" he yelled, "Do you know where the banjo is?"

"I think Roy went outside with it!" Kara yelled back. Bart grumbled, annoyed. Didn't the guy understand that it was his turn tonight?

Bart swung open the door, and walked outside, his eyes scanning for Roy.

"Are you looking for this?"

Bart spun around, and he could have sworn his heart stopped.

"...Jaime?"

Jaime laughed, putting down the banjo and letting it lean against the wall. Bart felt dizzy and was pretty sure he was going pass out. He began to fall forward, and Jaime quickly caught him.

"Missed you too, mi amor. It was a long and difficult eight years." he said in his husky voice.

"It's been eight years already? Am I dreaming, or is this the best goddamn fucking day of my life?" Bart mumbled.

"It's the best goddamn fucking day of your life." Jaime confirmed and chuckled, looking Bart in the eyes for a few moments before pulling him into a kiss.

It was nothing like their first kiss. No, their first kiss was sloppy, desperate, clumsy, and overall kind of awkward.

But this one wasn't desperate, despite the separation of several years. It was elegant, it was romantic, and it was perfect in so many ways to describe. Just like in the movies. As the sunset's rays fell upon them, Bart Allen could feel himself falling in love with Jaime Reyes all over again. Hell, he wasn't sure if he even fell out of love with him in the first place.

After separating, Bart looked Jaime in the eyes. He could only smile. Because now he had the chance to say something to him that he hadn't said in a long, long time. The last sentence he had ever said to Jaime. Something he'd never thought he'd have the chance to say to him again.

"I love you."

x

Bart couldn't stop readjusting himself underneath the covers. It was the only noise in the old and dark motel room, with the exception of the soft humming of the air conditioner.

"Miel, relax."

"Still dizzy." Bart mumbled.

"Do you need me to go out and get you anything?"

"No." Bart replied quickly, tightening his grip on Jaime, "Don't you _dare_ leave."

Jaime let out a small laugh. "Alright, alright, I won't. I won't go anywhere. I promise I'll come back with you."

Bart responded with a happy noise out of the back of his throat, and he buried his head in Jaime's chest.

"Oh, and Bart?" Jaime whispered.

"Hmm?"

Bart knew Jaime was smiling.

"I love you, too."


End file.
